"She's not an obscurial," Amber's mom said, sounding equal parts relieved and exasperated. "She's not repressing. She's just denying." From her hidden position atop the back porch roof where she'd just exited Amber's bedroom window, Zevalyn frowned and froze. Amber was grounded right now and Zev was not supposed to be here. If Amber's parents found her, she was totally going to be grounded, too.
But who was Mrs. Mitchells talking about? Amber? And more confusingly, what was an obscurial? And what was she denying? Amber was definitely not denying her affections for Jeffrey Winters anymore, because that was entirely why Amber was currently grounded for life.
"No, I didn't think she was. There was evidence of accidental use even when I was observing her." The male voice was unfamiliar, and Zevalyn wondered now who Mrs. Mitchell was even talking to.
"It's becoming more frequent now that she is a teenager," Mrs Mitchell stated, and Zevalyn decided they weren't talking about Amber. Moms didn't talk about daughters with that tone of clinical detachment. Probably one of her cases then. She was a social worker. So the guy was probably someone from work.
Some abused girl was using ... drugs, maybe? None of Zevalyn's business. But how do you accidentally use drugs? Curious, she kept eavesdropping (preferably without actually dropping off the eaves though that was definitely not outside the realm of possibility right now). There had been rain earlier and the shingles were a bit slippery when wet.
Besides, as long as Mrs. Mitchell and her co-worker were sitting on the porch beneath Zevalyn, she didn't have many options other than continuing to listen. Attempting to get down would reveal her presence and put an end to her free weekends for at least a month.
"I'm not surprised," the man said, "Puberty hormones would make what little instinctual control she does have weaker and her outbursts stronger. We may need to try directly addressing the family again."
Mrs. Mitchell snorted. Snorted! "And whose going to do that? You've still got an active warrant out for your arrest from the last time you tried that."
A warrant?! Clearly not a co-worker then! Who could she possibly be talking to? How did Amber's mom even know any criminals??
Too intrigued to resist, Zevalyn crept slowly and carefully to the edge of the porch roof to peek over and look at a real live fugitive. When she saw him, she gasped. When she gasped, he looked up. When he looked up, their eyes met. When their eyes met, her entire body was flooded with terror and adrenaline.
Her stalker! Her stalker was here! Her stalker was drinking lemonade with Amber's mom!
"Zevalyn," he said.
She needed to run. She needed to be away. She wanted her mom. She felt her stomach twist and contract and felt really weird.
"Zevalyn?" he mom asked, confused and alarmed.
Zevalyn shrieked and ran into her mother's opening arms and cried like she was five years old again because she was no longer on Amber's roof. She was five miles away at her mom's work.
And she couldn't explain how she got there using science or logic.