Fake Me To Church

Chapter 17.2 - Former Things

- STEVEN -

"H-hello?" Sam's voice came through, gravelly and flustered. "Irina, I've been calling you all day."

"What a coincidence," she spat. "And here I thought you didn't care about me anymore."

He sighed. "Can we not do this right now? Look, I have something to tell you."

"Better be good. I've got a plane to catch."

"Irina, come on," he said. "This is serious."

"Fine, speak your piece. No one's stopping you."

He sighed again. "It would be easier if I could just...show you. Mind if I come by your house?"

"Not at all," she dragged, sarcasm oozing. "Let me know when you get here. I'll be sure to grab the shotgun."

"Irina..."

"No, Sam. You don't get to play your stupid games with me. Anything you need to say, you can say it right now."

"Come on, Rina, please. I seriously think I might know what's happening..."

"I don't care. You freaked out on me in the middle of Madam Caroline's office, you haven't called or texted in weeks, and suddenly I'm supposed to trust you? Did I mention that three people are now dead, including the woman whose computer you slammed in front of her face?"

"Whoa, Irina, take it easy," I whispered.

Sam exhaled heavily on the other end. "I know you have no reason to trust me...and you probably hate me." He paused. "But this whole thing—it means so much more than just...just some crazy news story."

Irina was silent. We all were.

"I shouldn't've yelled at you that day. I was scared—heck, I'm still scared—but it wasn't fair for me to ice you out like that. I'm really, really sorry, Rina." He drew another long, aching breath.

Irina gulped, opened her mouth to speak, then bit back her words.

"And I know you probably don't believe me, but...please. I think I can help. I know Lane better than any of you."

"What?" Irina gasped. "Sam, how did you—?"

"Because I knew her," he said gravely. "And she's the only one who could possibly be doing this."

"I—I thought Lane was dead," I whispered.

"So did a lot of people," Sam replied, "...including me. But somehow, she must have survived." He paused. "And I think I can prove it."

Irina hesitated. "...How?" 

"I...I have Lane's DNA."

What?

"Like I said," Sam drudged, "...it'd be better if I showed you what I mean."

Irina shook her head briefly, her eyes wide with bewilderment. "O—okay," she said. "We're all at my house now." She paused, her voice quivering. "Come on over, I guess."

****

When Sam pulled up at the curb adjoining the Gravesteppers' house to the main road, Irina left me and Ahmed at the front door before plodding across the lawn to go meet him.

Her eyes fell to the grass the moment he stepped out of his car, an athletic drawstring bag hanging tightly around his upper back.

He stared down at her. "Can I have a hug?"

She didn't move, didn't say a word.

He stretched his arm tentatively forward, circling both her shoulders, and pulled her close to him. Her head rested against his chest.