Back to present day….

  Mom eased the car through traffic as Emmaline watched the great City of New York pass by her window as her mind wandered. She couldn’t help but think of that terrible morning of her eleventh birthday and how Michael had come and saved her in only the way that he could.

  It had been a great birthday after that, and everyone had loved her black hair. Though Mom had been less enthusiastic than everyone else. Eventually, Em decided to go back to her original color when she found out how much work it would be to keep it black. But it was really wonderful of Michael to give her that time when she enjoyed having a different color. He was great like that, so she knew wherever he was, he was trying to help Dad in any way he could. But it sucked not knowing what was going on and having to leave to go somewhere else.

  They had packed Mom’s Mustang with their hurriedly thrown together luggage and had left the house in complete silence. It was a solemn event to watch Mom lock up the house, not knowing when they’d be able to come back, if ever.

  Emmaline wished she could wake up and all this would just be some horrific nightmare, but she knew this to be true. It hurt too much for this to be something she was dreaming. It was like her chest might explode with all the hurt that twisted around inside her. It was pure agony.

  Mom hadn’t said much since they’d left, her knuckles white against the steering wheel. The radio stayed off. No music, no news—just the hum of tires on asphalt and the occasional horn from frustrated drivers. Emmaline pressed her forehead against the cool glass of the window, watching her breath fog and clear, fog and clear.

  “Where are we going?” She finally asked, her voice small in the enclosed space.

  Mom glanced over, her eyes tired but determined. “Somewhere safe. It’s outside on the outskirts of the city. A place your father set up years ago. No one will be able to find us there.”

  “But what about Eric? And all our friends? Won’t they miss us? Won’t they worry? We should at least tell Eric where we are going.”

  Her mother shook her head. “No, we can’t tell anyone, not even Eric. No one must know about this place.”

  “But––” a squeal of tires came from a car that abruptly cut in front of mom and she had to slam on the brakes to stop from hitting the other vehicle. Horns blared from all around.

  “Emmaline, please, I am trying to drive,” Mom said in an exasperated voice as she tried to concentrate on the traffic.

  She shut her mouth and turned back to stare out the window. The skyscrapers gradually gave way to smaller buildings, then to suburbs, and finally to scattered houses with larger plots of land. Eventually, Mom turned onto a narrow road that Emmaline wouldn’t have noticed if they hadn’t slowed down specifically for it.

  The road was unpaved, lined with trees that seemed to lean toward each other overhead, creating a tunnel of branches. The car bumped along, and Emmaline gripped the edge the door to steady herself.

  “Almost there,” Mom said, breaking the silence. Her voice sounded hollow, like she was speaking from the bottom of a well.

  The trees finally parted to reveal a small cabin nestled against the hillside. It looked old but well-maintained, with a stone foundation and wooden walls weathered to a soft gray. A small porch wrapped around the front, complete with a rocking chair that swayed slightly in the breeze.

  Emmaline stared at the cabin, feeling a strange mix of disappointment and relief. It looked so... ordinary. Not at all like a high-tech hideout she might have imagined.

  “This is it?” she asked, unable to keep the doubt from her voice.

  Mom cut the engine and sat back, exhaling slowly. “This is it.” She turned to face Emmaline, her expression softening for the first time since they’d left home. “It’s not much to look at, but that’s the point. Nothing to draw attention.”

  They sat in silence for a moment, the car ticking as the engine cooled. A bird called somewhere in the distance, answered by another. The normality of the sound made Emmaline’s throat constrict. Finally, Mom opened the car door and stepped out. She went to the truck and popped the hood.

  “Come get your stuff,” she called.

  Emmaline grabbed her purse that was between her feet on the passenger floor. She then stepped out and went to grab the hurried suitcase she had packed. Her stomach growled as she slipped a hand around the handle.

  Mom slammed the trunk closed after it was empty, and she led the way up a short gravel walkway with bites of grass poking through. The crunch of her and her mother’s shoes was loud in her ears as they made their way to the cabin.

  “What about food? I’m getting hungry.”

  At last, her stomach had calmed. Now it was demanding nourishment, and for a change, she craved genuine food, not junk food, and definitely not ice cream.

  “We stocked the pantry with non-perishables. It should hold us over for quite a while. Once we are settled, I might go to the gas station we passed a ways back and see if they have some milk and juice.” Mom set her bag down as she took out a key from her purse and unlocked the front door. She held the door open for Emmaline to step through.

  Just then, her phone, tucked away in her purse, made a swooshing sound. It was the text alert she’d set up for Michael. Emmaline rushed through the door, hurriedly put her luggage down inside and set her hot pink purse on the small table by the door to pull out her phone. She read the new text from her brother. He’d finally answered the dozen she’d sent while they’d been driving out to the safe house. Her texts asked Michael where he had gone and if he’d found Dad. Each one becoming more frantic and demanding. It was about time he’d answered, but as she read the text, it sent her heart right up into her throat.

  Dads hurt, idk what happened, maybe a stroke, call 911 so they can come over to the farm, bye luv u 4ever

  Emmaline’s fingers trembled as she held out the phone to her mother. “Mom!”

  The older woman took the phone with a concerned look. She must have seen the panic on Emmaline’s face, not to mention the terror in her voice.

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  “My God!” Mom swore as she quickly punched 911 into the phone. It wasn’t long before she was connected to a dispatch operator.

  Emmaline heard her mother speaking rapidly to the operator, explaining that she believed her husband had had a stroke and giving the address of the house their family had in the country. The one that had been nicknamed “The farm”. The one Michael said dad was now at, where their father was having a freaking stroke. Why hadn’t Michael called 911 instead of asking her to do it? And why were they at the farm anyway?

  Mom ended the phone call and handed Emmaline her phone. “An ambulance is on the way. They should be there shortly. They are taking him to the hospital. I want you to stay here while I go check on your father.”

  “What?! You want me to stay here alone! No way! I’m coming with you!” She stomped out of the house after her mother.

  “Emmaline,” she said with reproach.

  “No! Everyone keeps disappearing on me, and now Dad is hurt, maybe dying. You aren’t going to leave me here alone wondering what’s going on or wondering if I will ever see any of you again. Please, mom. I can’t just stay here.”

  Mom’s face crumpled, the hard shell she’d maintained during their drive finally cracking. She ran a hand through her hair, visibly torn between rushing to Dad and protecting her daughter.

  “Fine,” she said after a long moment. “But you stay close to me. No wandering off, no questions in front of others, and if I tell you to run, you run, no questions and no back talking. Understood?”

  Emmaline nodded quickly, relief washing through her. “I promise.”

  They hurried back to the car, leaving their belongings scattered inside the cabin. Mom didn’t even bother locking the door. As they pulled away, gravel spraying beneath the tires, Emmaline clutched her phone, reading Michael’s message again and again.

  “Why would Michael text instead of calling 911 himself?” She asked, voicing the question that had been spinning in her mind.

  Mom’s jaw tightened. “I don’t know. Something’s not right about this.” She sped up, the car fishtailing slightly as they hit the main road. “Try calling Michael.”

  Emmaline’s fingers fumbled as she dialed her brother’s number. The phone rang once, twice, three times before going to voicemail. “He’s not answering,” she said, her voice cracking. She tried again with the same result.

  “Keep trying,” Mom urged, taking a sharp turn that made the tires squeal.

  The drive back felt twice as long as the journey out, though the speedometer never dipped below seventy. Emmaline alternated between calling Michael and staring at his text message, analyzing every word. She wished he’d said more or had even called. And how had Dad had a stroke? He was never sick and, as far as Emmaline knew, in perfect health. None of it made sense, least of all why Dad and Michael were at the farm in the first place.

  As Emmaline was reading through Michael’s ridiculously short and unhelpful text for the hundredth time, another message popped up on her phone. This one from Helen.

  Did u see that this random guy got abducted?

  Emmaline’s stomach twisted in a knot as she stared at her best friend’s message, not sure she wanted to know what else had happened with the ship. Finally, she took a deep breath and typed her response.

  What?

  A moment later, Helen sent back a link to a video clip with the title Random Guy Gets Abducted!

  The knot in her stomach grew even bigger, then her heart started pounding. She quickly clicked the link and impatiently waited for it to load. A transparent wheel spun as the phone attempted to access the file. An eternity seemed to have passed before the video finally started playing.

  The ship had moved. It was no longer over Lake Thurmond. She could tell from the hilly landscape beneath the ship that it was complete with multiple copses of trees and even a few houses dotting the area. But what her eyes were immediately drawn to was a green transparent light emanating from the bottom of the massive black ship. And in that radiating light, the figure of a man was slowly floating upwards.

  The video was recorded from such a distance that identifying the person was impossible. However, the individual seemed to be male. He sported short-cropped hair, dark pants, and a light blue short-sleeved shirt, with his head tilted back as he gazed up at the ship, arms halfway up at his sides. It appeared as though he was merely enjoying the view of the sky, yet he was being lifted upward, held in place by a broad shamrock-colored beam.

  Emmaline’s mouth went dry. The shaky footage continued as the man ascended higher, becoming smaller against the enormous hull of the ship until he disappeared entirely inside it. The green light flickered once, twice, then retracted like water being sucked up through a straw. A moment later, the ship began moving, accelerating with impossible speed until it was just a dark speck against the blue sky.

  The video ended, leaving Emmaline staring at her reflection in the black screen. A cold dread washed over her as her mind made connections she didn’t want to acknowledge.

  “Mom,” she whispered, her voice barely audible. “Mom, look at this.”

  Her mother glanced over, eyes darting between the road and the phone. “What is it?”

  “The alien ship... it took someone. It beamed them up like in some sci-fi movie.” She held out the phone with shaking hands.

  Mom snatched the phone, nearly driving off the road as she tried to see the screen. After a quick glance, she handed it back, her face ashen. “Where was this taken?”

  “I don’t know. Helen just sent it.” Emmaline bit her lip, staring at the video again. “It looks like countryside, maybe farm country? Wait––” She zoomed in on the image, her heart hammering against her ribs so hard she thought it might bust right through them and out her chest. In the corner of the frame, partially obscured by trees, was a weathered red barn with a distinctive white roof. A barn she recognized.

  “Mom, I think this is near the farm.” Her voice came out as a whisper.

  Mom’s knuckles went white on the steering wheel. “Let me see that again.” She pulled over to the shoulder of the road, gravel crunching beneath the tires as she took the phone from Emmaline’s trembling hands.

  After studying the video for several seconds, Mom’s face drained of color. She started the car again, pulling back onto the road with a jerk that pressed Emmaline against her seat.

  “Mom?”

  After a long time, she finally spoke. “That’s Michael.”

  “What? Are you sure?’

  “I’m sure. That’s the shirt he was wearing today. He always liked that shade of blue.”

  “Lots of men wear light blue shirts,” Emmaline countered, not sure how Mom could be so sure and afraid that she was right. She remembered Michael’s words before he’d left the house when she’d asked where he was going.

  To right a wrong. Take care. I’ll be back when I can.

  And then there was the look Michael had given her just before he left. She didn’t want to know what it meant––not then, not now––but she did. She had always known, yet it was simpler to pretend otherwise. Emmaline had known Michael’s solution to helping Dad. She remembered the things Mom said would happen to Dad once the Ethians had him. But of course Michael had gone after Dad. And now the Ethians had him. Did that mean they had Dad now too?

  “It’s him, Emmaline.” Her mother said with a finality that Em couldn’t dispute. In her gut she knew her mother was right, but as long as she didn’t know for sure it was Michael, then there was a chance that maybe this was someone else. Surely, it had to be someone else.

  Mom pressed harder on the accelerator, the engine growling in protest as they sped back toward the city and the hospital the dispatcher said they would take Dad to. Emmaline stared at her phone, playing the video again, trying to convince herself that the figure wasn’t her brother. But the more she watched, the more she recognized his posture, the way he held himself with that quiet dignity that had always seemed beyond his years. She had the sudden urge to throw her phone, but instead she gripped harder onto the pink case as if she might crush it with her grip.

  This wasn’t fair! Why did the aliens have to come and take her brother away! And ruin everything!

  The familiar choo choo sound came again, and Helen’s new message came across the display.

  I wonder who the guy is?

  Emmaline didn’t have to wonder. She knew exactly who was being beamed up to that ship, and there was nothing she could do about it. Not a damn thing. Her brother was being taken away for who knew how long––maybe forever. Emmaline laid her head back against the cold glass window of the car as her heart broke.