"Oh, um. . ." said Sam and he brushed off his work jacket. "We got a 911 call last night. . ." He looked hesitant to continue. "It was, uh, it was Stiles."
Lacy blinked multiple times. "Stiles? W-What happened?" She asked and walked into the living room.
Samuel stood from the couch, groaning at his aching bones. "He was at the auto-shop so they could work on his jeep and, uh. . .somebody killed the mechanic."
"Killed?" She repeated, her eyes slightly wide. "Wha–What about Stiles? Is he okay—"
"He's fine, sweetheart. He didn't get hurt," Sam assured, gently holding her face. "We just had to detain his jeep for evidence. Everything's alright. Well, minus someone getting killed."
Lacy sighed under her breath. "Jesus," she muttered and followed behind him as he walked into the kitchen.
Samuel paused on his way to the fridge. "Wait, why are you up so early?" He realized, turning back around.
She anxiously messed with the sleeves of her pajama shirt. "Oh, um. . ." She spoke quietly. "Had another nightmare,"
Her dad frowned. "Honey. . ."
"Well, memory, I guess is a better way to describe it."
"I'm sorry. Lace. Y'know, if you want, we can get you someone to talk to," Samuel spoke gently. "The school counselor, a therapist, anybody. You don't have to struggle with this all by yourself."
Lacy rubbed her hands together and slowly sunk her nails into her wrist in an attempt to conceal the tears she desperately wanted to spill. She plastered a fake smile on her lips. "Maybe," she whispered. "I should get ready for school."
Sam watched her turn away and walk towards the stairs. "Yeah, and I should—" he looked down, remembering he was still in his uniform. "—well, never mind."










Lacy watched her dad and she stood there, eyeing the school, trying to gain the courage to walk inside. It was only her second day and yet her anxiety had yet to settle. Her hand wrapped tightly around the strap of her bag, so tight that her skin became red. Breathe, Lacy. Nothing's going to happen, the angel on her shoulder whispered. Go home. Turn back around. You were kidnapped at this school. He took you from this school— Lacy blinked, wishing she could push the devil off of her other one.
"Hi."
She jumped at the sudden presence, looking over and seeing the girl from the other day.
"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to startle you," Allison said quickly. "You're Lacy, right?"
Lacy forced herself to talk. "Y-Yeah. Yes, I'm Lacy."
She smiled lightly, her dimples and smile lines showing. "I'm Allison. I'm so sorry if I made you uncomfortable yesterday."
"Oh, no, it's okay. It was just, uh. . .it was just my first day back." She tried to explain but she paused. You don't know this girl, Lacy. She knows Scott but you don't know her. Don't tell her anything. You can't trust anyone.
"Oh, really? Why's that?"
"Uhh," Lacy started to say. "I've just, uh, been really sick. I was out of school for a while. But I'm okay now."
Allison blinked a couple times but then she smiled again. "Oh. That's good. Glad to see you're back." There was a short pause. "So, you know Scott?"
Lacy was thinking about all the ways she could possibly get out of the conversation. "Uhh, yeah. For a few years now. His mom and my father are good friends. He's, uh, a good friend."