The rest of our Saturday night date was pretty chill. After we left the dessert pce we just sort of drove around for a while. We weren't really going anywhere in particur, it was mostly just about the three of us spending time together again after a few days apart.

  Eventually we found ourselves at the end of a country ne, parked next to a wetnds conservation area a few kilometres east of the vilge. Harper turned off the engine and everything was dark and quiet and peaceful. The three of us ended up sitting in the truck bed, cuddled up with a bnket around us as we watched the stars and listened to the sounds of the woods.

  It was a nice end to a nice evening, and we didn't head home until some time after midnight.

  Sunday was another quiet zy day for me, although I did try and get myself into the right mindset to go out job-hunting first thing Monday morning. Except it turned out I didn't have to after all. My girlfriend texted me the good news Sunday evening, that her idea worked out and she'd found me a job. I was to report for work the following morning at half past ten to begin training.

  Like she warned it was basically retail, I'd be working in a posh little boutique right at the vilge crossroads. That was easy walking distance from home, and the fact that it was retail didn't really bother me. At least it was nicer than working in a gas station.

  There was just one big downside, according to Ellie. The pce I'd be working was her mom's art gallery, which meant I'd be spending my workdays with Mrs. Vandalen.

  Except that really wasn't much of a problem, as far as I was concerned. My girlfriend's mom always seemed really nice and kind whenever I'd met her. I didn't have any trouble understanding her either, despite her strong European accent. About the only concern I had was about being trans and the fact that she'd known me in my original guy shape. Ellie assured me that wouldn't be an issue though, since her mom already guessed I was trans from when she saw me briefly in my magical girl form.

  Sure enough there were no problems when I showed up at the gallery Monday morning. Mrs. Vandalen didn't say anything specifically about me being trans, but she did compliment me on how cute I looked. She even said it was easy to see why her daughter was so smitten with me, which was nice but also felt kind of weird to hear coming from Ellie's mother.

  When we got into the training it turned out to be more than just the retail work I'd expected, and since I already knew how to use a register that part went by really quickly. The rest of the training was about the art, since it turned out she wanted me to actually know about the stuff up on the walls. I wasn't expected to become an expert, but she did want me to at least know the names of the artists and a few details about their work. That way if any customers asked, I'd be able to give them a little information.

  And while I was positive my girlfriend would have found that kind of thing boring, I actually sort of enjoyed it. I'd never really thought too much about cssical fine art when I made the decision to study an art-reted subject at college, and graphic design didn't really have anything to do with painting or sculpture, but I figured it was adjacent. It might even help me down the road, having some knowledge or insight into how that stuff worked.

  So I paid close attention to everything my new boss told me, about the different paintings and the people who made them. I also looked at the brochures she had avaible, and made a point to check the various artists' websites when I got the chance. By the end of my first day I was feeling pretty good about my new job.

  That carried over into Tuesday, which turned out to be another good day.

  Working at the art gallery was a lot quieter than working at Crawford's, in the sense that there were way fewer people coming and going. On the other hand the customers who did come in tended to stick around a while, and talked a lot more. And most of them never actually bought anything, they just came in to look and maybe kill time before moving on.

  On the other hand when someone did buy something it was usually a really big purchase. At my previous job I was used to the transactions being under a hundred dolrs, with most being in the twenty to thirty dolr range. My first sale at the gallery was a six-hundred dolr painting, and that wasn't even the most expensive thing up on the walls. For that matter it didn't even make it to the middle range, in terms of the value of everything Mrs. Vandalen had up on dispy.

  After the sale my boss showed me how to prepare the picture, which was a lot more involved than just stuffing it into a pstic bag. First off it had to come down off the wall, and for some of the paintings that meant getting a stepdder out of the back. The bigger ones would require two people, since they got heavy when you included the frames and everything. Then it was all carefully wrapped in brown paper and bubblewrap.

  As we did that she also expined that sometimes customers would just buy a picture then expect it to be shipped, rather than wanting to take it with them. Or she'd occasionally get online sales, and obviously those had to be shipped out. Then there were certain situations where the customer wasn't allowed to take the painting with them until ter, like if it was part of a show.

  When a customer bought a show painting we'd put a little sticker on the information card next to it, to indicate that it'd been sold. Then the buyer would have to come back after the show was over, when they were finally allowed to take the picture home. Or it'd be shipped out if they didn't want to come in person.

  Once again I paid close attention to everything Mrs. Vandalen taught me, and my second day at work wrapped up as well as the first. In fact my good mood sted all the way up until I got home that evening, when I found my aunt's little hybrid parked in the driveway behind mom's car. That meant I was finally going to have that difficult conversation with my mom and her sister.

  "Hi Bke," mom greeted me as soon as I stepped in the door. She and her sister were sitting in the living-room like they'd been waiting for me, and they both had mugs of coffee in hand.

  Before I had a chance to respond mom added, "Do you want to grab yourself a drink or something? Your aunt and I would like to speak with you, if you're ready."

  "Yeah ok," I sighed. "Just give me a minute to get changed."

  I was dressed in my nice clothes for work, which looked good in the fancy boutique setting, but they weren't as comfy for sitting around the house. So I headed up to my room where I got out of the blouse and scks, then pulled on a pair of leggings and a loose t-shirt instead. From there I went to the kitchen to grab a bottle of water, then finally headed back into the living-room again.

  "Where's Amelia?" I asked as I plonked myself down on the sofa.

  "She's gone out with Alice and Sarah," mom replied. "They're going to get dinner and see a movie, so the three of us can talk openly without bothering your sister."

  After a gulp of my water I asked, "Who's Sarah? Another of Amelia's friends?"

  Mom expined, "Alice's cousin. She's a year older than your sister and her friend, and has her license. So she offered to drive them to the theatre in Owen Sound."

  "Ah," I nodded.

  Then my aunt spoke up, "It's nice to see you again Bke. I hope you don't mind that I have several questions for you, about your experiences up north? And about what happened to our mother."

  I grimaced, "I really don't like to think about any of that. But I guess I don't have a choice?"

  "I'm sorry hon," mom gave me a sad look. "I know it's difficult for you, but Leslie and I do have questions. And the sooner we get through them, the sooner we can put all this behind us."

  "Right," I sighed again.

  Mom suggested I start by telling Leslie the same sort of stuff I shared with her and Amelia when I first got home, so we were all on the same page before getting into the heavier details that they both wanted to hear. So I spent the next few minutes doing that. I told my aunt about the trip, the weather, and the pne crash. That's as far as we got though, before they both started interrupting with their questions.

  After that the story got a lot slower, and I got more uncomfortable as I had to think about all the unpleasant details so I could rey them to mom and Leslie. My aunt seemed especially interested in the gory stuff, like she wanted to know exactly what happened to their mother, and that prof who was helping her. They were both really curious about the Outsiders too, what they looked like and how they moved and how they fought and everything.

  I ended up showing aunt Leslie the scar on my arm as I expined how a simple touch caused second degree burns even though I was in my magical girl form. I also told them about Violet's leg, and how she'd be using a cane for a few weeks while she healed.

  One detail that my aunt seemed satisfied about was how their mother was killed by one of the monsters, rather than the magical girls. She commented, "So that whole story about the Outsiders rewarding her with power in return for letting them in really was just a deranged fantasy our grandfather dreamed up. I always thought that sounded fishy, especially when we knew Jacob's motivation was always just revenge."

  "I wonder if he knew it was a lie?" mom asked. "Maybe it was a deliberate fabrication, to entice our mother into going along with it? Or maybe he really did believe it himself."

  Leslie pointed out, "It may have started as a deliberate lie, but one he eventually fooled himself into believing. He had more than a touch of dementia towards the end, Lindsay. The st ten or twelve years of his life he didn't have a very firm grasp on what was real and what wasn't."

  Mom asked about that, and her sister expined that Heribert's faculties declined as he got older. According to her, his memory was the first to go. Then he started seeing things, and finally he got paranoid. Apparently their mother had to hire a live-in caregiver to look after the guy when he was in his te sixties, because otherwise he'd forget to eat or he'd forget to turn off the stove if he did cook. Or he'd wander off and get lost or whatever.

  The whole thing sounded kind of depressing, but I only had to remind myself he was as evil and nasty as Judith, and that he was the one who murdered the previous Rosa. So I just kept quiet and sipped my water, while mom and Leslie talked about their grandfather. Unfortunately it wasn't long before their attention returned to me again.

  My aunt looked to me as she commented, "You mentioned our mother's assistant was holding a rge book that she'd been reading from. That had to be our great-grandfather's original tome. It contained all the occult knowledge he'd been accumuting since the nineteen-thirties, and everything else our grandfather and our mother learned over the years too. Do you know what happened to it? Did the other magical girls take it?"

  "No," I shook my head. "One of the Outsiders uh, ate it?"

  My stomach churned a bit as I grimaced, "It was the giant slug-like one, that um, dissolved the prof guy. I'm pretty sure it dissolved the book too."

  "That's the Outsider that you said started chanting?" mom asked. "You said it had lots of mouths on its back, and you thought it was trying to stabilize the rift after our mother was killed?"

  I sighed then nodded and mumbled, "Yeah. So I cut it in half with my halberd..."

  They both listened as I expined how the huge worm-like one took up the chanting after the maggot-monster died. I told them how Lily and Azura and Violet and I teamed up on that one, and we managed to kill it even though Violet was injured. They interrupted with a few more questions after that, but eventually I got through to the end of the fighting and how we spent thirty or forty minutes killing off the st of the Outsiders.

  "So nothing of our mother's camp survived the battle?" Leslie asked when I was finished.

  "Not really," I shook my head. "Two students made it out unharmed, but all their stuff was ruined. We went back ter to see if there were any batteries or sor panels or anything else we could salvage, but it was all destroyed."

  My aunt sighed, "That's too bad. Especially the book, that was a treasure-trove of arcane knowledge. I'm positive more than half the information in there was irrepceable."

  "Probably for the best though," my mom pointed out. "Knowing where some of that knowledge came from, and what our family did to acquire it, I'm going to sleep a little easier knowing it's gone for good."

  "Of course," Leslie nodded in agreement. Then she asked me, "Mother would have had a ceremonial dagger with her as well, it bore some very powerful enchantments. I don't suppose you know what happened to that?"

  I frowned as I shook my head, "I remember seeing it? She dropped it when she uh, died. That was the st I saw it though. Maybe one of the Outsiders took it. Or uh, ate it."

  Leslie looked sad about that too, but let that topic go. Meanwhile I told them about the rest of my experiences up there, like the stuff I shared with Amelia a few days earlier. Leslie was less interested in that since it didn't really have anything to do with her mother, but my mom looked upset as I expined what it was like for me and the others.

  Eventually I got to the end of the story, then mom suggested all three of us could go out for dinner together. She wanted to do something special, like maybe to reward me for having to go through all those uncomfortable details for her and her sister. Unfortunately I'd pretty much lost my appetite after that conversation.

  So the two of them ended up going out, while I just munched on an apple then spent the rest of the evening distracting myself with social media and MyTube videos. I still didn't sleep very well though, and it must have showed on my face when I got in to work Wednesday morning.

  "Good morning Bke!" Mrs. Vandalen greeted me with a warm friendly smile as soon as I entered her little art gallery. Her smile fell a moment ter as she asked, "Are you doing alright hon? You don't look very happy this morning."

  I shook my head then stifled a yawn, "I'm ok ma'am. Had a bad night, but I'll be fine."

  My boss gave me a sympathetic look as she asked, "Are you having nightmares too? Helena hasn't slept a full night since you kids got back home, I think. I keep offering to take her to see a therapist, but she isn't interested. Now I'm wondering if maybe you should speak to someone as well? Or perhaps all three of you? Do you know if Harper is sleeping well? Or is he also having nightmares?"

  That was a lot to unpack all at once, and I was positive most of it was stuff my employer shouldn't be asking or telling me. On the other hand Mrs. Vandalen was also my girlfriend's mother, and I knew she was reacting out of genuine concern. Then there was the news about Ellie, I had no idea she'd been having nightmares about our ordeal. I couldn't ask my girlfriend about it though, I was positive she'd be livid if she found out her mom shared that.

  "Sorry ma'am," I shook my head. "Maybe we should just focus on work stuff? I appreciate your concern, but I don't think Ellie or Harper would want me talking about the other stuff."

  My boss pouted for a moment, but she must have realized I was right. She apologized, "I'm sorry hon. You're right, I shouldn't have pried about personal matters."

  Sure enough she let that stuff drop and we focused on work instead. But it still left me worrying about Ellie and Harper, and wondering what I'd tell a therapist if I actually did see one.

  PurpleCatGirl