The Keller Estate, noon
Jack didn’t like the way the older kids whispered when they thought he wasn’t listening.
He could hear them through the wall—barely—but enough to know they were talking about him. Not just him, though. About Ethan. His best friend.
Jack clenched his hands, the knuckles tight and white like scraped chalk. His palms still tingled from the scratch he’d just gotten while climbing the trees with Ethan earlier that morning. The fun had ended fast. Too fast.
The Sorcerer Lady—tall, shiny, scary—had come out of nowhere. She floated, like some villain from Saturday morning cartoons, and snatched Ethan right out of the air. Jack had grabbed his legs. He’d held on tight. He remembered that.
And he’d been forced to let go.
Now Ethan was gone.
Jack sat cross-legged on a too-clean rug in a bedroom too fancy to make any sense to him. His finger poked at the corner where the carpet met hardwood. That didn’t feel real. None of this did.
The only thing that felt right in the room was the Jack knife lying on the nightstand. It felt somehow familiar, like an old friend. Everything else he was wearing? Hand-me-downs from someone named... someone. He didn’t remember. They didn’t smell like the woods. They smelled like laundry soap and rich people.
He looked down at the bandage on his arm. It was stained with dirt. Probably from when that glowy lady had knocked him off his feet. He hated bandages. They were itchy and made him feel like a wimp.
But worse than that—worse than anything—was this feeling in his stomach. Like he'd failed. Like he should’ve done something more.
He punched the floor, quietly.
Then he stood up and stormed out the door,grabbing the jack knife with him.
The hallway was big and wide and way too quiet. Jack crept along the polished wood floors,knife in hand, bare feet silent like a raccoon on a porch. He followed the muffled voices, keeping low like he was tracking prey. Something about all this just itched in his head.
There was a big room at the end of the hall. The double doors were cracked open just a smidge. Enough to see shapes moving inside. Those Teenagers again. One had a glowy green suit, another wore orange and yellow, and the one pacing looked like some kind of karate dude.
They were in a circle, serious faces on. Talking fast and low.
Jack pushed the doors open hard enough to make them jump.
“You’re all wasting time,” he declared.
Three pairs of eyes locked onto him.
The tall boy with the red hair and blue goggles raised an eyebrow. “Uh… excuse me?”
Jack stormed in, ignoring the weird, sharp pain in his head. It always came when he moved too fast. “You’re just talking! We gotta go! Ethan’s still out there!”
The girl with the ropes—he didn’t know her name—stood. She held up her hands like she was calming a spooked dog. “Hey… hey, slow down. You should be resting.”
“I don’t care! I’m not tired, and I’m not a baby!”
“You had a concussion, kid,” said the red-haired boy, his tone part concern, part annoyance. “You were out cold all night.”
Jack’s fists clenched. He hated the way they said “kid.” Like he didn’t matter. Like he couldn’t help.
“I tried to stop her,” he muttered, eyes falling to the floor. “I did. I grabbed Ethan. I held on. I just…”
He sniffed, blinked hard, shook his head like a wet dog trying to shake off shame. “I didn’t hold on tight enough. She was too strong.”
The karate guy finally stepped forward. He looked familiar. There was something weird about the way he moved—like he wanted to run over and hug Jack, but didn’t.
Instead, he knelt down to Jack’s level. His voice was quiet.
“No one blames you, okay? You did more than most grownups could’ve.”
Jack stared at him. “Who are you again?”
The guy blinked, then gave a small smile. “Just a friend.”
“I don’t know you,” Jack muttered, taking a step back,clutching the knife close to his chest like it was lifeline. “Or any of you. You’re all weird. I only trust Ethan.”
“You did,” said the girl, stepping closer. “You knew us. But you hit your head, and now your memories are… scrambled.”
“Scrambled like eggs?” Jack frowned. “That doesn’t make any sense.”
“Exactly,” said the redhead. “Memory loss doesn’t make sense. But you’re not alone.”
Jack’s face twisted. “I don’t feel like I knew you. I only feel like a fuzzy blank. Like I’m just me. And Ethan’s just… my best friend.”
The silence after that hit heavy.
He didn’t understand what was going on, but he knew—knew—they were all looking at him like he was something else. Like they knew some big secret about him and Ethan that he couldn’t remember.
Jack hated that feeling.
He stomped one foot. “You gotta let me help!”
The karate guy stood. “You’re hurt. You need rest.”
“No!” Jack shouted. “I don’t care! I know how to track! I can follow trails! I can climb! I can fight!” He waved his knife at the other two. “I don’t need electric gloves or spider ropes or whatever dumb stuff you have! I’m strong! Just ask Ethan! He knows!”
His voice cracked at the end. His cheeks were red now. He felt that heavy pressure behind his eyes again—the same one that came when he saw Ethan pulled away and couldn’t stop it.
The girl walked up to him slowly, crouched to his level, and reached into her pouch. She pulled out something—string cheese.
Jack stared at it.
“…I’m not hungry.”
She smiled gently. “Yeah. But you are tired. And scared. And mad.”
He didn’t answer. She placed the snack in his free hand anyway.
“You’re brave, Jack. And you’re right. Ethan needs you. But we need you ready. Not dizzy. Not sore. We’ll find him, and when we do, you’ll be there. Just… let us get a plan first.”
Jack looked at the cheese. Then back at the girl.
“…I’m coming with you. Even if I gotta sneak out.”
She smiled wider. “Then we’ll make sure you don’t have to.”
Jack nodded, biting the corner of the cheese wrapper like a wolf gutting prey.He didn’t get all this grown-up talk. But he did know this:
Ethan was his best friend.And Jack was going to get him back—no matter what it took.