Present Day

  “Don’t pull up to the front!” Audrey ordered with typical eight-year old sass. “Right here is fine.”
 Aiden cast her a sidelong look, wondering when she had gotten to an age where she was embarrassed by her father.
 It wasn’t a new thing, not really, but it didn’t get any easier to take.
 “Dad!” she groaned as he ignored her request and continued toward the drop off in front of Bethesda Elementary School.
 “What?” Aiden asked. “Do you see anyone else dropping their kids off three blocks away?”
 “I thought you were always the one saying that being different is not necessarily a bad thing,” she retorted, pulling her bag out of the backseat before she reached for the door.
 We can’t win. The next generation is always smarter than us.
 “Uh, are you going to give me a kiss?” he asked, trying to keep the exasperation from his voice.
 She groaned as if he had demanded a kidney, her peaches and cream complexion melting into an expression of disdain and for a fleeting moment, Aiden was reminded of Xander.

  Xander, who was still in prison for the murders of Charles and Lisa.
 She sighed deeply as she placed a prefectural kiss on his cheek before disappearing up the walkway toward the school.
 A strange pang filled his gut as he watched her go, a bittersweet experience as he realized how fast she was growing up.
 She looks like Jamie and acts like Xander. Beauty and ruthlessness in one innocent package. I am so screwed.
 Someone behind him honked and Aiden waved apologetically before pulling away from his spot on the curb. 
 A light rain was falling over the town as he merged onto I-95.
 Traffic had slowed to a standstill, a fact which never ceased to amaze Aiden.
 It’s water sprinkling over the streets. I don’t understand how this causes everyone to lose control of their common sense and their cars.
 Of course, not everyone was Aiden Van Hoyt.
 He pressed the screen on his dashboard, activating his Bluetooth and called the office.
 “Quick Accounting.”
 “Hi, Eileen. It’s me.”
 “You’re stuck in traffic?” she asked automatically, and he chuckled. His receptionist knew him too well.
 “I just dropped Audrey off at school,” he explained. “But traffic is crawling.”
 Eileen chuckled lightly.
 “You know you probably won’t even be late,” she replied. “And even if you are – “
 “Yes, yes, I know. I own the company. I just thought I would let you know,” he laughed, feeling chastised.
 “Duly noted, Aiden,” she placated. “Your morning is pretty clear anyway. Maybe you should take the day off and go see a movie or something.”
 He snorted aloud, and she laughed.
 Aiden Van Hoyt taking a day off for no good reason? Highly unlikely.
 He was nothing if not thorough and scheduled. Men like Aiden did not simply play hooky, CEO or not.
  Eileen was more than likely right; he probably would not be late. Still, he didn’t want anyone worrying about him.
 Does anyone really worry about you? He asked himself and the answer churned his stomach slightly.
 His daughter was eight now, the days of curling up in his lap and spontaneous hugs a thing of the past.
 Since Jamie had died, Audrey’s attitude had reflected the grief in the worst ways possible and even after two years, she showed no signs of rising over the rebellion nature which had taken a hold of her.
 At least once a week he found himself in the principal’s office, apologizing to someone’s mother or a teacher for something Audrey had said or done.
 The problem was, her fury was brilliant, not randomly acted out in punches or kicks. More implied, than actual.
 She seemed to be a pool of slowly increasing anger and resentment, and Aiden had no way of knowing when it was going to spill over.
 “She needs more discipline,” Principal Bellajoy explained. “She feels she is above reprimand and can get away with anything. That sort of thing starts at home.”
 “She lost her mother,” Aiden replied with as much patience as he could muster. “It’s a difficult transition at any age. But she was only six when it happened…”
 The woman’s face did not lose its stoniness.
 “I have all the sympathy in the world for her plight,” Mrs. Bellajoy said icily. “But I am afraid I have no tolerance for children disrupting the classroom.”
 “I’ll talk to her,” he sighed but the answer was never good enough.
 “I’m afraid whatever it is you claim to be doing has no affect on Audrey,” the principal declared, and Aiden felt himself growing angry.
 Is she suggesting I don’t discipline my daughter? He wondered but even as he got defensive, he tried to remember the last time he had actually punished Audrey for anything, instead of just ‘talking’ to her.
 You can’t punish a child in mourning, he told himself, shaking his head. But Aiden wondered if that was the real reason.
 He pushed the unbidden thought of his abusive parents out of his mind and focused on the slow-moving interstate, gritting his teeth.
 It’s been a good week so far, he reminded himself. No calls from the principal’s office.
   The drive from Bethesda to Baltimore was just over forty minutes in regular traffic but it took Aiden an hour that day.
 But he still wasn’t late, and Eileen’s beam confirmed it as he wandered into the lush and elegantly decorated office on St. Paul Street.
 “Good morning,” the receptionist chirped as he entered. “I have a message for you.”
 He arched an eyebrow with polite interest.
 “Oh?”
 She handed him a handwritten note on a yellow piece of memo paper.
 “Sarah.”
 Alarm raced through him.
 “Is she all right?” he demanded, and she nodded, but Aiden could see her blue eyes had clouded over lightly.
 “She says she is,” Eileen reiterated. “But she sounded a little sad.”
 Aiden bit on his lower lip, his mossy eyes meeting Eileen’s.
 “Yeah, I bet she’s sad,” he muttered. “I’ll call her.”
 Guilt flooded him as she nodded and returned to her computer screen.
 Fuck. 
 Gulping back his shame, Aiden continued into his office, flipping on the recessed lighting as he slipped off his jacket and hung it on the back of the chair.
 He pulled open the folded message and exhaled slowly, reaching for the phone on his desk.
 “Hi,” he said when an older, male voice came on the line. “It’s Aiden Van Hoyt. Do you have a minute to talk?”
 “Yes, Mr. Van Hoyt. I’m glad you called.”
 “I know I haven’t been around to visit her much lately, but – “
 “I understand you are also going through a very trying time right now,” Dr. Cruthers interrupted. “I have no interested in burdening you further, but I thought that you and I should discuss your sister’s care.”
 “I thought we had,” he replied shortly. “I don’t care what it costs. I want her to have round-the-clock care.”
 Dr. Cruthers exhaled deeply.
 “Mr. Van Hoyt, it is not so simple anymore,” he explained. “Your sister is regressing rapidly, and I think it’s time to look into other avenues.”
 Aiden felt his spine fuse.
 “What do you mean ‘regressing’?” he asked, his voice a strangled whisper.
 “Well…she has delusions, things she thinks are memories of childhood. Now I understand that there was a lot of trauma for a young child to endure but – “
 “What is she saying?” he insisted, his face flushing as he sensed what the psychiatrist was about to say next.
 Dr. Cruthers chuckled in embarrassment.
 “I’m sure you know that she has always held you in such high esteem, and while I expect some…less than sensical utterances from her about you, lately she has been speaking about your brother also.”
 Of course she has. Because Xander can’t just stay out of our lives even when he keeps his distance.
 Aiden forced a laugh.
 “I can only imagine,” he replied. “Like what?”
 He hoped he did not sound as apprehensive as he felt, but he tried to reassure himself that no one would ever take his sister seriously, no matter what she said.
 More shame washed through him at the comfort.
 Everyone thinks your sister is insane and you’re grateful for that. You’re a special kind of asshole, aren’t you, Aiden?
 “Well she claims that you and Xander have superhuman powers,” he chuckled and while Aiden had been expecting such a response, it still made his heart stop.
 “Don’t I wish,” he replied dryly, willing his voice not to crack as he spoke.
 This is your own fault, he scolded himself furiously. If you had gone to visit her more often, she would not feel so abandoned and needing to broadcast everything she remembers.
 “But I am sure that can all be easily explained away. After all, my brother was quite a comic book aficionado in our youth. I am certain that we used those books to distract her when things were going badly in the house. She likely has confused one idea for the other.”
 “You are likely correct,” Dr. Cruthers agreed. “But there are other things also…”
 “Things like what?” Aiden’s tone was cutting but he couldn’t allow any questions about special powers to be raised.
 “Well…she still claims she is the one who killed your parents.”
 “That’s ridiculous,” Aiden said sharply. “I think we have resolved that matter once and for all,” he paused, trying to calm himself. “But it sounds like she still has a lot to sort through. What kind of medication is she on?”
 “That’s just the thing, Mr. Van Hoyt. The cocktails aren’t working anymore because I think she’s suffering from too many disorders at once. She has personality disorder, depression, schizoid-delusions and anxiety. If we give her one thing, it will counteract the effects of the others. We have been trying for years to regulate her personality, but I feel like we’re fighting a losing battle at this point. This is not a life for any person, least of all a woman as vibrant and beautiful as Sarah.”
 A twinge of unease fluttered through Aiden as he suddenly realized his sister’s doctor was trying to present something to him, something he was not going to like in the least.
 “What do you suggest, doctor?” he asked slowly.
 There was a long silence and Aiden briefly wondered if he had lost connection. But as he opened his mouth to speak, Dr. Cruthers beat him to it.
 “I think that if you ever want Sarah to lead a full life, you should consider electroshock therapy for her, Mr. Van Hoyt.”