Border, KS

“Well, I guess we know what happened to them,” Antigone offered with a sigh as she considered the pictures. Once again they found themselves in the hallway Morgan had shown them earlier, with the pictures of the children who had died in 1986. Her fingertips lingered on the picture of a boy with a bowl-cut and a girl in ponytails.

“Matthew and Natalie Morrison,” Siobhan repeated. “Yeah, I guess they didn’t run off in to the city and live as feral wolf-children. Which was about the best anyone could have hoped for, all things considered,” she offered, with a wrinkle of her nose at how good an outcome that would have been. “They never left. In any sense.”

Antigone considered the pictures, sighing. “So what was the thing they were fighting? And if they’ve been ghosts, why didn’t Morgan mention it?” Antigone asked. “It’s not like she would have not told us about ghosts, after everything.”

Siobhan gave a distracted shrug in universal signal of having no idea whatsoever. “That’s the first step, though. We’ve got all kinds of half information on faeries now, but I don’t know butt about ghosts.”

Their quest for Morgan turned out to be short lived. As they came back to Paul and Paolo, she was both nowhere to be seen—not unusual in a hospital. But Paul came out with a note scratched out in precise, flowing handwriting that Antigone immediately knew was Morgan’s.

Antigone and Siobhan,

I got a call. I have to go out of town for a few days in order to straighten out some family business. I texted your Dad to come and get you at 5 PM; he’ll meet you outside. I should be back by the weekend, and not have to leave again next week.

Morgan.

“Shit,” Siobhan said with a shake of her head as she read the note over Antigone’s shoulder. “Well, there goes asking her about it,” she sighed as she folded the note and tucked it in to a pocket.

“Ask her about what, girls?” Paolo asked as he leaned against the nurse’s station, idly looking over his shoulder at the clock on the wall to track down how much time he had left. He had hair in a ponytail down to his shoulder that looked liked it would be glorious when freed, and Antigone briefly blushed at thoughts of what it would look like—Paolo was as gorgeous as he was taken by the equally handsome boyfriend who had dropped him off in the morning.

Antigone and Siobhan shared a glance as if considering how to answer that. “We, uh…” Antigone began, biting her lower lip. She had gotten more attention than she had perhaps wanted out of the battle at the high school, with an article in the papers proclaiming how she had saved lies by warning everyone of the impending doom. She had no desire for Paul and Paolo to start thinking she had some kind of messiah complex, if they had heard of it.

“Ghosts,” Siobhan offered blithely, apparently harboring none of her sister’s insecurities. “We were cleaning in the hallway and we thought we heard something spooky going down. So what sort of ghosts have we got in this place?” She offered it completely calmly, leaning on the nurse’s station opposite Paolo.

“Oh, we’ve got some ghost hunters in here, huh?” Paolo asked with a smirk. He shared a knowing look with Paul. “It’s a hospital, kiddo, people die here by the pallet load every day, under the best of circumstances. When certain soda spilling doctors are on vacation is pretty much the best of circumstances,” he offered with a snort. “Where were you? They say there is a vomiting ghost up two floors, from the founding of the town.”

“Room 133,” Siobhan answered. She started to say more, but then both Paolo and Paul stiffened, and shared a look between them. “What?” She asked, eyes darting between the two of them quickly, trying to make sure she didn’t miss a visual cue because she was looking at the other one at the time.

“That’s not funny,” Paul spoke, his voice low and serious. He came over to look Siobhan in the eye, and Antigone saw tension around his eyes that made her nervous. “Did Morgan put you up to that, is it some kind of prank? It isn’t funny.” His voice went from being serious to almost hostile as he finished, searching Siobhan’s face for some hint of mockery. There wasn’t any.

Antigone always told people Siobhan did have the ability to be serious when she needed to be, and she demonstrated it in the face of Paul’s near aggression. “No, we were in the hallway and we started hearing things. It looked like the hallway changed color, and the room was crazy…”

Paolo let out a little shuddering breath, and reached out to put a hand on his counterpart’s shoulder gently. Paul gave a nod, shaking his head and sighing. “Did you hear them?” When both Antigone and Siobhan nodded solemnly, he shuddered as well and sighed, standing up straight. “What did they say?”

“They told us to run…” Antigone finally chimed in, her voice soft. “A brother and sister with brown hair in hospital gowns…” Paul reached up to wipe his eyes a little bit, and looked around.

“Yeah, alright,” Paul said hesitantly. “I am going to go out on a limb and believe that somehow you two are the only two that have ever seen them besides me and Paolo. For some reason. Maybe you’re psychic, or weird shit just follows you.”

“The second,” Siobhan and Antigone answered at the same time, before they shared a look.

“Spooky,” Paolo said with an appreciative nod at their twin-speaking, before he sighed. “Can you girls text your dad and tell him you’ll be a little bit late? If you can see them, maybe you can save them—and Paul needs to tell you about the day they disappeared.”