Midnight Frost

front of me, and she slowed her steps, as though she didn’t actually want to pay for her food, but she eventually made it over to the cash register.
    The woman sitting behind the register perked up at the sight of Rory. She wasn’t that much older than us—probably in her mid-twenties—but she was exceptionally pretty, with long, glossy black hair, green eyes, and porcelain skin. She wore a white chef’s uniform, and I wondered if she’d helped cook the food.
    “Hi, Rory,” the woman said. “How’s school going today?”
    “Hey, Aunt Rachel,” Rory muttered. “Everything’s fine.”
    Aunt Rachel? This must be the aunt whom Grandma Frost had told me about—the one Rory lived with. Her mother’s sister. The only family she had left. Well, besides me.
    Rachel’s eyes flicked to me, and she noticed how close I was standing to her niece. Her face brightened a little more. “Who’s your new friend?”
    “Hi there,” I said in a cheery voice, just to needle Rory. “I’m Gwen.”
    Rory shot me another dirty look, but Rachel didn’t notice it. Instead, she reached over and took my hand in hers.
    Her feelings and emotions hit me a moment later.
    Normally, I was careful about touching people, since my psychometry kicked in the second my hand brushed across someone else’s, but Rachel caught me off guard with her impromptu, enthusiastic handshake. I thought about pulling back but decided not to. I had a lot of questions and not a lot of time to get answers to them since we’d be leaving in the morning to trek to the ruins. I wanted to know more about Rory, and flashing on Rachel was one way to find out. Besides, worst-case scenario, it would tell me whether or not they were Reapers and how much I could trust them.
    Rachel’s feelings blazed into my mind. For a moment, I was overwhelmed by images of her. Laughing, talking, smiling, growing up over the years, even learning how to fight as a Spartan. But the deeper I sank into her memories, the more I noticed another person in them—an older girl who resembled her. That must be her sister—Rory’s mom. All three of them looked just alike. I could also feel all of Rachel’s love for her older sister—and how much she looked up to her.
    But there was a darkness in the other girl—a darkness that Rachel worried about more and more as the years passed. A darkness that only intensified when she met a boy her own age, and the two of them had Rory. At first, Rachel thought that Rory would be enough to pull her sister out of the darkness—but she wasn’t. The images grew more and more disjointed after that, turning into a wall of solid red in Rachel’s mind—a wall of blood.
    Her sister’s blood.
    In front of me, I was dimly aware of Rachel looking at Rory. Suddenly, the memories and feelings changed, and I saw Rory growing up over the years—and all the love that Rachel had for her niece.
    But the main thing I felt was how tired Rachel was—and how very sad. She was trying to do the best she could with Rory, but she was constantly worrying that she wasn’t doing a good enough job, that her love wasn’t enough for Rory, that it wasn’t enough to help ease the pain of losing her parents.
    Rory’s parents were dead? When? How?
    Before I could look for the answer, Rachel pulled her hand away from mine, and the memories and feelings vanished. I blinked, trying to get my bearings and sort through all of the images and emotions I’d seen and felt at the same time.
    I must have had a strange look on my face, because Rachel’s eyes narrowed with suspicion. But I gave her a bright smile, paid for my food, and walked over to the table where my friends were sitting. Footsteps smacked on the floor, and Rory hurried up beside me.
    “What was that about?” she hissed. “What did you do to my aunt?”
    “Nothing,” I said. “She didn’t feel a thing.”
    I didn’t add that I’d felt everything Rachel was experiencing at the moment, especially her last, strongest emotion—her surprise and happiness that Rory seemed to have a new friend. I wondered what she would think when she realized who I was—and that Rory and I weren’t exactly friends.
    Rory gave me another suspicious look, but she sat down at the table with us. Nobody said anything, and we all dug into our food.
    The bison cheeseburger was surprisingly good. Really, I couldn’t even tell it wasn’t regular old beef. The meat had a bit of a spicy red pepper seasoning, and the heat