A Torn Family

Chapter 2

Nobody spoke the entire drive into town. Until we passed a girl putting up posters.

"I'll bet you that's her." Dean said, and I shot him a questioning look. "When you were... uhh... fixing yourself to talk to the deputies, Sam and I heard two of them talking. Apparently this kid, Troy, has a girlfriend around here. We wanna talk to her."

I nodded in understanding.

"You must be Amy." Dean said to her. "Troy told us about you. We're his uncles and that's his aunt. I'm Dean, this is Sammy, and this is Lucy."

"He never mentioned you to me." The girl, Amy, shot back skeptically.

"Well that's Troy, I guess. We're not around much. We're up in Modesto." I added, smiling sweetly at the girl.

"So, we're looking for him too." Sam interrupted. I glared at him for cutting me off. "And we're kind of asking around."

"Hey are you okay?" Some random girl approached Amy. I couldn't help but smile at the concern the girl had shown. Us girls had to stick up for one another.

"Yeah." Amy responded.

"Do you mind if we ask you a couple of questions?" Sam asked her again.

She nodded and we made our way into a nearby diner. Sam held the door for me. I scoffed, elbowed him in the gut, and sat on the inside of the bench Dean had settled in. Forcing Sam to sit at the end of the booth in a chair.

"I was on the phone with Troy." Amy was telling us about the night Troy disappeared. "He was driving home. He said he would call me right back, and he never did."

"Well, I know what that's like." I said quietly, but all eyes moved to me. Apparently I wasn't so quiet. Sam looked down guiltily, and I pushed my way out of the booth, grabbing Baby's keys. I sat in the car, mortified, for the rest of their meeting.

***

Sam and Dean followed shortly after, and Dean wordlessly started driving. Sam didn't even make me move my seat. He just went around and sat in the back. Dean drove us to the library where the three of us settled in front of a computer, looking for some legend the girls had told Sam and Dean about.

Dean, like always, sat himself at the keyboard typing into the search bar. After two failed attempts, Sam tried to take his place.

"I got it." Dean snapped at him.

"Dean," I piped up, and they both looked at me. "Just let him try it. College might've taught him something useful. Einstein here might actually be able to help you."

"Thanks, Sis."

I didn't correct his usage of my nickname.

Dean still tried to resist though, until Sam pushed his chair away. To which Dean slapped his arm and called him a control freak. Now just as a reminder, Dean is the oldest. Sometimes it's hard to remember that with the way he acts.

"So angry spirits are born out of violent death, right?" Sam thought out loud. "Maybe it's not murder." He said as he replaced the word "murder" with "suicide". And just like that, we had results. "This was 1981. Constance Welch, 24 years old, jumps off Sylvania Bridge, drowns in the river."

"Does it say why she did it?" Dean asked and I scoffed at his lack of patience.

"Yeah." Sam continued. "An hour before they found her, she called 9-1-1. Her 2 little kids are in the bathtub. She leaves them alone for a minute, and when she comes back, they aren't breathing. Both die." He went on with some details while Dean and I listened intently.