Faetality |✓|

5.2 //Food for the Worms\\

As Margot soon discovered, knowing everything actually consisted of finding out very little. I shared what information I did know, with Lana offering the occasional correction or addition. Though the conversation ended on a good note, I walked away wondering if Margot really was a believer. It's not every day you find out that your sister is a Faerie and magic is real. 

After Lana left and Dad returned home, we put on our best faces and tried not to show how disappointed we were at the news he brought with him. We still couldn't see mom yet and there were still no suspects because something was wrong with the security footage. In fact, he'd brought home a copy and planned to watch it that night, but neither Margot nor myself dared to ask for an invitation to the viewing. Maybe it was because we both knew we wouldn't get one, or maybe it was because we really didn't want to see what was on that tape.

That night, I lay in bed too restless to sleep, bathed in the dim glow of six carefully placed night lights. According to Lana, the Plasmaliks couldn't enter true light, rendering the sapphire useless. The jewel wouldn't hold them back–only put them in my view. So for now, night lights–as childish as they seemed–were the only way I would ever get a comfortable night's rest again.

For an hour I stared up at the ceiling, trying and failing to find sleep in the grooves and patterns etched in the white paint. It was almost a relief when I heard a soft knock upon my bedroom door.

"Come in," I called, without sitting up.

The door swung upon to reveal Margot, dressed in her PJ's and carrying a pillow. 

"I can't sleep," she said, looking down at the floor in embarrassment. "The floorboards are creaking, the wind sounds funny, and I have this feeling there's something under my bed."

"It's the Fae. They use natural fears to make their presence known. But Lana said they won't hurt you, remember? Fae law says they can't hurt innocent Humans."

"Yeah, well, something tells me they have a very broad definition of the term innocent, and, well, let's just say I'm not that innocent."

"Okay, Britney Spears, jump on in." I threw back the covers, sliding over to give her some room.

"Thanks. Tomorrow I'll get some night lights too."

"Sure." I turned the other way, lying on my side, forcing my eyes closed.

"Tamsyn?"

"Mmm. What?"

"Do you really think Mom'll be ok? Even though no one really knows what's going on except us?"

I frowned, refusing to open my eyes. "I dunno--yes."

"Do you think Mom knows who your real birth parents are?"

I sighed. "I don't know, Margie. Maybe."

"Well, do you think Mom knew what you are? Because I think she did. And I also think she knew who slash what the Sorcerer is too. It just makes more sense that she would know about the Fae. Don't you remember all those Faerie Tales she used to tell us when we were kids? Maybe they weren't made up. Maybe they were real." I said nothing. These thoughts weren't new to me. "Question is, why didn't she tell you? I mean, I can understand keeping it a secret from me and dad but why didn't she let you know? Or... what if she did tell Dad? What if he's known all along?"

"Dad doesn't know," I said, finally sitting up.

"Yeah? And how can you be so sure?"