When I regain consciousness, to my satisfaction there are only 5 minutes left of the block. I look over to see how my desk partner’s nail endeavor is going when I notice a boldly inked sentence stamped directly on her forehead. It says, 

“I cheat on my boyfriend all the time”

I let out a small snicker, but immediately lean over and whisper, “Hey, you have something on your forehead that you probably don’t want other people to see.” “What do you mean, like a pimple?”, she mutters. “No, here let me show you”, I say as I take out my phone to take a picture. I slide my phone across the table, and she looks at the screen. “What do you mean, are you calling me ugly or something?”, the goth girl says. “No of course not, I’m talking about what it says on your face”, I exclaim. She gives me a look that says I belong in an insane asylum, which is interrupted by the sporadic ring of the bell. She flies out of her chair, and the rest of the class filters out of the room, masking my awkward encounter. However, to my surprise something very weird occurs. I slowly begin to notice that everyone has a strange phrase printed on their forehead. 

“I have anorexia”

“I have a foot fetish”

“I’m not in love with my wife anymore”

“I was in a hit-and-run and was never caught”
“I have a crush on my teacher”

“I’m using him for his money”

The sentences swirl around my brain like a violent storm, as I’m left glued to my chair. That’s it. I’ve officially lost it. Everyone said they were surprised I didn’t take more time off when Elijah disappeared and now I’m a full-blown psychopath. I run to the nearest bathroom and am further attacked by more forehead confessions. 

”I have commitment issues”

“I don’t think my parents like me”

“I have a made-up friend”

My inner thoughts are shooting at rapid-fire. 

Why is everyone just casually going about their normal day? Is this some kind of practical joke? But the thing is, I don’t think anyone is seeing what I’m seeing. I mean, these things can’t be true, right? There’s absolutely no way. Should I just ask someone about it?

Before I can stop myself, I march up to a blonde girl in the bathroom looking at her pores in the mirror. Her forehead reads:

“I was gone for two weeks because I got a nose job”

I feel the words come up like vomit. “Hey,  sorry this is really random but did you get a nose job?”, I ask manically. She looks me up and down before scoffing, “How the hell do you know that? Who even are you?” The echoes of her response still ring in my ears as I dart out of the bathroom and through the hallways of my school. What was on her forehead was true. 

One thought comes to the forefront of my mind; I need to find Will. I make my way into the cafeteria, trying to ignore all the disturbing things I’m reading. Without fail, every single person has something written. Even my teachers. 

I finally make out Will’s dopey face from the crowd. He’s sitting at our usual table in the right corner, and already has my tray of food sitting next to him. I must look really hysterical, because when he sees me his chiseled mouth contorts into a strange squiggle. I hurriedly seat myself down on the bench, and begin to stare at the steel tabletop. Rubbing my temples, I prepare myself for Will’s reaction to what I’m about to say. 

“Lyla, what’s going on?”, he says concerningly. “I don’t really know what’s wrong with me, I’m just starting to fall apart”, I respond. The sound of my voice is muffled by the sleeves of my sweatshirt, and I can feel the nervousness begin to wash over me. 

Will grabs my shoulder and affirms, “You know you can literally tell me anything. What could have possibly happened in the last hour that's so horrible?”

 “I’m starting to see things that aren’t there Will. I’m legitimately hallucinating.”

“Okay well what are you seeing?”

“Everyone’s forehead looks like it has some sort of writing on it. It’s almost like a secret that they want to keep hidden or something. The weird thing is I think they might be true. I asked a girl about what I saw on hers and you should have seen her reaction” 

I see Will recoil into his chair and form a sly mischievous grin. “Well what does mine say?”, he says sarcastically. It was at that very moment that I realized I had been so preoccupied with finding Will, I had never actually looked at what his message said. I avert my gaze to his forehead, and am met with a twinge of pain. I’m not ready to come to terms with what it says, so I come up with the quickest reply I can think of. “Um, yours is blank.”, I try to say confidently. “Huh, that’s strange. Well then I guess you're going to have to prove it to me”. “Fine, you don’t believe me? Let’s see what jokes you make after this”, I say as I slowly back away from the table. I look around the cafeteria for a secret that doesn’t look too horrible. My eyes scan the room and settle upon a big muscular guy with a leather jacket and aviators on his head. He clearly thinks he’s the coolest person in the room. His secret says

“I have a tattoo of a pink butterfly on my arm that I don’t know how I got” 

Harmless enough. I go back to Will’s table and look him directly in the eye. 

“Do you see that guy over there with the leather jacket?”

“Yes, what about him?” 

“Well I’ll bet you anything he has a tattoo on his forearm of a butterfly.”

“Absolutely no way. I know him. He’s on the baseball team and he’s definitely not the type of person to have a butterfly of all things as a tattoo. A skull and crossbones maybe.”

I slowly back away from the table dramatically and march right up to the sunglasses guy. 

“Excuse me, do you mind coming to talk to my friend for a second? He says it’s about wanting to join the baseball team or something.”

“Um sure I guess”, he responds.

As we walk back over to Will, I muster up all my courage to try what I’m about to do next. Before sunglasses starts talking I grab the left sleeve of his leather jacket and pull it upwards, sure enough revealing a hot pink butterfly. 

“Hey back off! What’s your problem?”, he says as he runs back over to his original table of the cafeteria. 

Will erupts into laughter which slowly fades after he realizes the craziness of what I just did. 

I stare him down, waiting for him to say something. 

After a couple more moments of silence Will says abruptly, “Alright fine I believe you!” 

“Thank you, but what am I supposed to do?”

“I mean, you have to admit it’s kind of cool. You actually know everyone's secrets”

“But you don’t understand, they’re not all so light-hearted like that. I’ve seen some really bad ones”

“You can’t do anything about it for now, so I say why not enjoy it.”

I sit back in my chair and tap my fingers on the table. I guess he’s right. I’ve been needing some sort of change since Elijah, and I guess the world decided it's going to be a psychic ability.

 For the rest of the school day Will repeatedly comes up to me and asks me something like, “What does his say? Oh, I bet hers is a good one. Oh my god, what about Ms.Checkett’s?” With every secret I read, I feel a weight becoming heavier and heavier in my chest. I can’t sit and focus anymore, because I’m getting a first-hand view into the personal lives of everyone I encounter. It’s only been three hours, and I’ve never felt so overwhelmed. How can I do this for the rest of my life? 

At the end of the day, I slowly trudge to the subway, ready for the isolation of my bedroom. As I get farther into the city, the secrets become more and more worrisome. When I finally get to my apartment complex, I’ve already seen dozens of murderers, cheaters, and robbers. The world has never looked darker. I rattle the rusty key into my front door, awaiting my private paradise. I fling myself onto the couch and bury my face into the cushions. The nothingness is inviting. I sit there relishing in my solitude for a long time until I hear the creak of the front door. My mom must be home from her shift at the hospital. I hear the sounds of the fridge open and some clunking noises before I finally lift my head from the pillows. I cautiously look at the message on her forehead:

“I talked to Elijah the day of his disappearance” 

I do two slow blinks to make sure that I read the sentence correctly. The words remain unchanged. 

“Hi honey, how was your day at school?”, she asks monotonously.

“It was um, fine I guess.” If gaining a supernatural power is considered fine.

“Well you know that I have another night shift later so you’ll have to figure out dinner for yourself”

“Yep.”

“Make sure you get your homework or something done”, she says as she takes a plate of food into the confinement of her room.

With the shut of her bedroom door, I am immediately filled with a sense of rage. She knows something else, yet she's the one still sulking around and not talking. How has she just let me fumble around in the dark for all of this time? I get up from the couch, and stomp over to her door. I fling it wide open, and interrogate, “What do you know about Elijah Mom?” She is left frozen with her fork mid-air, and a single piece of lettuce falls on the floor seemingly in slow motion. 

“What?”, she says softly.

“I know you talked to him. What else do you know?”

“I don’t know what you're talking about, I know just as much as you know.” 

I know she's lying, because she can never look me in the eyes when she isn’t telling the truth.

“Mom, please I’m not stupid. You have barely spoken three words for two months. You owe me this.”, 

The tears begin to well up in her eyes as she says, “It was just a phone call I… He just told me he was leaving and to not contact him. He said he was in danger and I just didn’t want to scare you”. My stomach feels like it’s in my throat. 

“He also left this letter in my drawer. It’s for you”, she mentions quietly. She reaches into her nightstand and hands me a wrinkled piece of paper. I don’t say another word as I exit the room, and sit on the floor against my bedroom wall. 

Hey Delyla, 

I’m sorry that all of this is so abrupt. It wasn’t supposed to happen this way. Something’s come up and I have to leave. I just can’t take it anymore, it’s all too much. I know too much. Mom won’t understand, so you’re going to have to take care of her. I don’t know if I’ll be able to come back anytime soon, I need to get this fixed. It wouldn’t be safe if I stayed, I need you to understand that. Please just try to carry on like normal. I’ll be looking out for you, take care. 

Sincerely, 

Elijah 

I toss the paper aside in sheer disbelief. What does he mean by “I just can’t take it anymore, it’s all too much”? Where did he go? I feel more lost than before I read this stupid letter.  The safe feeling of our apartment dissipates, and I immediately need fresh air and open space. I run out of my room and give the door a dramatic slam before exiting the apartment. Once I’m outside of our complex, I head for Central Park. I keep my eyes peeled to the floor of the pavement, trying to shut out all of the secrets around me. I find an empty bench, and plop myself down. The company of the trees is more comforting than people. 

As I try to clear my mind, something about Elijah’s language in his letter irks me. I know too much. I need to get this fixed. It doesn’t sound like him. If you need to know one thing about my brother it’s that he was outwardly perfect. He always got good grades, was captain of the basketball team, and was one of the most popular people in school. One of the weirdest things when he first disappeared was how empty school felt without him. I could tell that everyone else felt it too. It wasn’t just me and my mom that had a gaping hole, but anyone he had ever connected with. I remember the week after he went missing, my mom forced me to go back to school. The lockers in the hallways were lined with pale orange candles and frames with pictures of Elijah. There was a dull and numbing silence that I had never experienced before. I also don’t think that many people have come up to talk to me in my entire life. It was a superficial check-in, which only ever earned the response of, “I’m fine, thank you”. Since then I realized I will forever be Elijah’s little sister, not just Delyla. I know that’s how my mom secretly views me too. 

That’s what's so strange about his letter; He didn’t have anything that needed to be fixed. He was always just shining perfect Elijah. These thoughts play in a repetitive loop in my mind that I can’t break free from. It just feels like there’s something more. Before I know it, the sun begins to set, casting a faint rosy haze over the entirety of the park. I understand that I have to walk back before it gets dark out, but it takes a lot of encouragement for me to get up from my position. The thought of seeing my mom again brings about a pounding headache, which at least distracts me from people’s foreheads. Back at the complex, Bill is packing up and getting ready to clock out of his shift. However, I ineptly avoid looking at him; I don’t want to know his secret. Something about knowing a dark part of one of the kindest people I’ve met, is too much for me to bear. Luckily, my mom is still in her room when I arrive. I climb into bed, ready for this god-awful day to be over.

A couple of weeks go by of secret after secret. At this point, there are almost no skeletons in the closet that would come as a surprise to me. I sometimes forget what life was like before I had this ability. When I looked at the people around me, and saw nothing but what they looked like and their personalities. That’s the one thing that will never go back to normal: how I feel about people now that I know their truths. 

Today is a Saturday morning, which I usually spend exploring the city with Will. Within the crevices of the big popular restaurants and shops, you’ll find the city's best unknown secrets. I’m trying to survive and find my way in this new sense of normal, so I decide I can’t break our tradition. I text Will that we can meet at Angelo’s-the best breakfast place ever-and work our way down 38th Street and 8th. After getting ready, I walk into the hallway and eye Elijah’s old bedroom. The door is opened just a crack, and I can see the blue and plaid upholstery of his bed. I haven't gone into his room in a very long time. Something in me is pushing me towards that door. I can’t ignore the impulse, and I enter the room in a careful and gentle manner. I’m immediately taken aback by all the childhood memories: the sports trophies on the bookshelf, the old drawings, and his basketball jersey hanging front and center in his closet. I approach his oak writing desk, and trace the grooves of the wood with my fingers. On the desk, there’s a picture of me, my mom, and Elijah on a white water raft. That was our trip to New Mexico two years ago. I remember during that trip, me and my mom were in a fight for the majority of the time we were there. Elijah always acted as a mediator, and eventually got us to forget the minor and insignificant details of our arguments. When we were rafting, we were all happy just to be with each other. It’s one of my favorite photos of our family.

After a of couple minutes, I snap out of my trip down memory lane. I decide to move on to something else, and open the left drawer of his desk. I shuffle through the loose papers, and feel my hand land on an inconspicuous notebook. I flip to a random page, filled with scribblings from top to bottom. At first all I see is a bunch of random doodles and I can’t help but smile. That’s another thing about Elijah, growing up he used to draw me these cartoons to cheer me up. In the top right corner there’s his classic alien caricature. I keep flipping through the notebook page after page. After a while, I came across a page filled with the names of people at school. There’s Casey, Alex, May, Nick, and Brian. He was probably just making a list for a project or something. I close the book, but before I put it back in the drawer, I have second thoughts. I re-open the page, and next to the names I see a set of bullet points and checkmarks. I immediately feel beads of sweat accumulating at the back of my neck, and am petrified in my position, with my hand clawed tightly around the page. It won’t take long for you to understand why. Some of the bullet points read: 

Nick - “I sexually assaulted someone”
Casey - “I’m ready to give up”
May- “I left my friend while she was overdosing”
Brian - “My dad hits me”
Alex - “ I’m thought of shooting the school”
I now notice that the page is divided into two sections, one with the label victim, and the other with attacker. Things slowly start to fall in place in my brain, like a puzzle whose pieces are being arranged one by one. I slide myself over to the bed frame, and prop myself up for support. Elijah was like me. He could see things about people. That has to be the reason why he left, but what was he so scared of? Also, what was he doing with this list? Now that I know the true cause of his disappearance, I don’t feel the sense of relief that I thought I would. If I could just tell him that he’s not alone and there’s someone else like him, maybe he would come back. I don’t know what-or who- he was running from, but I do know that I need to find him now more than ever. The question is, how do you find someone that doesn’t want to be found? I scramble through his desk drawer again, looking for anything that shows an indication of where he might have gone. He said in his letter that he would be looking out for me, so my gut tells me he has to be in New York or at least nearby. All I can find are old scraps of papers and homework assignments. Sh*t. I fall back onto the bed, looking at the popcorn ceiling in desperation. I close my eyes tightly, and try to think about what to do next. The forcefulness of my eyelids creates shapes and colorful blurs that dance inside my vision. I re-pick up the notebook with the list, and do another swift glance at the pages. As I’m holding the book above my face in the air, my hands slip and it comes crashing down on my face. I clutch my nose in pain, and get up from my prone position. I’m such an idiot. From what I can tell from my temporary blindness, the notebook is now lying face down on the floor. I catch sight of a small business card cast astrown from the notebook after the incident. I pick up the card, and examine its cursive font. It reads:

‘Rosewood Tattoo Parlor” 

in small miniature letters. Elijah would absolutely never get a tattoo. But then again, maybe I didn’t know him as well as I thought I did. The address says that the store is just outside of Brooklyn, which is kind’ve out of the way from where we live. I hope Will is ready for a detour, because if there’s one thing I know it’s that I need to go to that tattoo parlor today. I put the card in the back pocket of my jeans, and text Will about the change of plans. It’ll be nice to have someone with me in case things go wrong. 

Me and Will sit on the subway in silence, which is unusual for us. I look over at him and notice that he’s staring into the distance, clearly thinking of something profound. I decide not to interrupt his train of thought, and pay attention to the rhythmic humming of the train engine. Dozens of people get on and off, on and off, on and off. This place was definitely further than I thought. Finally the monotonous robot voice announces that we’ve made it to our stop, and we hurriedly get off the car. As we walk, Will continues to give an assertive stare, and I’m finally done with the silence. 

“Hey, is something wrong?”

“No, why would you say that?”

“Because I don’t think I’ve seen you this quiet since you had the stomach flu last year.”

“Oh, it’s nothing”, he says with an impending frown.

“Well clearly it’s not nothing, you can talk to me.”
“It’s just that everything seems so weird and complicated. I mean how likely is it that Elijah really had the same thing as you? You know I’d support you through anything but this is getting a little much, even for me.”

“I know, look I’m sorry. You don’t understand though, I know deep down that this had to have been what happened to Elijah. You just have to trust me.”

“Okay, I’ll try. I’m not getting a tattoo though no matter what you say”, he says with a smile.

Finally. There’s the Will that I know. 

We turn the corner and are face to face with the shadiest alleyway that I had never seen. Flecks of dirt and a putrid smell erupt from the cracks in the cobblestone.  I immediately plug my nose, and we wander further into the depths of the side street. There’s trash bags lined in excess against the walls, and I swear I saw the faint outline of a rat tail scurry across the path. I slowly pull out the business card from my pocket, and double check the address. Will begins to turn back to the way we come. Then, I see the flicker of a red neon sign. I grab Will's arm, and drag him towards the occasional blasts of light. As the sign comes more into view, I now see that it says “All Are Welcome”. The words illuminate an overly modest storefront. The store itself looks brand new and renovated, with glass panels that shine brightly amidst the disgusting alley. I push Will in front of me, and he lets out a joking groan. As he opens the door, both of our jaws simultaneously hit the ground. The entrance is flanked by two gold benches, with vases of roses as far as the eye can see. There’s a long spiral staircase, a glass chandelier, and lanterns hung from invisible string, giving the appearance that they're frozen magically in the air. The beauty of the store is both mesmerizing and perplexing. My hands glide over the roses as we walk, and there’s a faint smell of fresh linen. 

I turn to Will and ask, “Where should we go?”

“My guess is up there”, he says while pointing at the staircase. 

As we tread on the staircase, I can’t help but wonder where all the people are. You could hear a pin drop in this place. Then my thoughts slowly turn to Elijah. How could he have known about this store? 

Once we reach the top, we find a man sitting at a desk, clacking away at a computer. He is slender and wears thin metal glasses that descend to the tip of his pointed nose. He has unusually good posture, and his expression suggests that he doesn’t seem to care or notice that we’re there. Me and Will argue over who is going to go up and talk to this peculiar man, and of course we settle on me. 

“Um excuse me sir?” His eyes don’t stray from the computer screen. “Hello?”, I asked again. 

“What, do you have an appointment?”

“Oh I’m sorry I don’t I just wanted t-”

He finally turns his head flamboyantly and looks at me directly. “Sorry, if you don’t have an appointment, I can’t help you”, he says with a mocking sincerity. 

“Look, can you just tell me if you know anything about Elijah McCallister?”
“Who’s asking?”

“I’m his sister, Delyla.”

“And who’s that?”, he says pointing at Will.

“Oh, that’s just my friend, don't worry about him.”

The man types some more on his computer, and then gets up and disappears down the hallway. 

I walk back over to Will and say, “Well he was friendly”. 

Before I know it, the man reappears with a packet of papers in hand. 

“There’s a note in here saying that you would probably come by at some point. It took you long enough to get here. You can probably tell by now that we’re not a tattoo shop. If you have any more questions call this number ”, the pointed man says as he plops the stack of papers in my hand. On top of the paper lies a new business card. It says “The Overseers”, with a 1-800 phone number. He returns to his computer, and we are forgotten again. I give Will a puzzled look, but we descend the staircase and proceed to exit the “tattoo shop”. Before I begin to delve into the packet, Will and I decide to go to a coffee shop down the street. 

As we walk throughout the city, Will rambles on and on about how sketchy and weird the store was. I give an occasional remark or a nod, but my mind is elsewhere. I thought that I knew my brother like the back of my hand, but how was he involved in all this secrecy? The feel of the packet in my hand feels like a weight that’s dragging me down. It just feels like I’m digging myself in a whole with each piece of information I find. However, there is one good thing that's come out of all of this. I’m so preoccupied with piecing together the mystery of Elijah that I've barely been thinking about the secrets I’m seeing. 

We finally get in line at the coffee shop, and I order my usual iced chai latte. Once we sit down, I can’t help but feel hesitant to look at the papers. I don’t know what I’ll find, and I’ll never be able to un-find it. Finally I bring myself to look at the hot pink sticky note on the top. It says 

“IF DELYLA MCCALLISTER COMES IN PLEASE GIVE SUBJECT INFORMATION TO HER IMMEDIATELY.” 

The first page of the packet is a series of notes like:

First made contact: December 2021

Subject name: Elijah McCallister

Reason for contact: Omnipathy 

 Will's brows furrow as he says, “What is omnipathy?”

“I think it’s what I have”, I respond slowly. 

They knew about his gift and even talked to him about it. I continue flipping through the different pages, and find a series of typed out interviews between Elijah and someone initialed “Z”.  The interviews cover everything from when Elijah first found out he had omnipathy to how he came across the Rosewood Tattoo Shop. The more and more I looked, I realized that these actually looked more like interrogations than interviews. Z was asking about what certain people’s secrets were. Important people like government officials and CEO’s. An unsettling feeling in my stomach began to grow, and something told me I couldn’t trust these people. On the very last page of the packet was a single bullet point. 

Subject missing and to be t---------
The final word is redacted, but I think I know what it would have said. A shiver runs down my spine, and I throw the packet on the table out of horror. I turn the paper around so it faces Will, and he gives me a worried look once he reads what it says. Terminated. It’s a stark and cold word that almost feels like it's referring to an object instead of a person. Elijah wasn’t running away from his family or his gift. He was running away from these people. 

“Why would they give this to me?”, I question.

“I don’t know, maybe they thought that you would help find him.”

“Find him so I could turn him in? What does the Overseers even mean?”

“Lyla, calm down. I know just as much as you do.”

I pull out the business card the strange man gave me, and start dialing the number.

“Hey, are you sure you want to do that? You just said yourself that you don’t think we can trust these people”, Will blurts out.

I don’t respond, and pay attention to the ring of the dial tone. An automated voice message starts playing. “Hello you have currently reached the number of the Overseers. If you would like to speak to an associate please press 1. If you would like to hear our st- “

I press 1, and am blasted with waiting music. After around a minute goes by, a woman with a voice like silk comes on the line. “This is the Overseers, how may I help you?”

“What have you done with my brother?”, I shout into the speakerphone. 

“Is this Delyla McCallister?”

“Um yes, how do you know my name?”

“We’ve been expecting you for quite some time. Have you read the files?”

“Yes what do you have to do with him?”

“We can’t disclose any information over the phone. Would you like to set up an appointment with the High Council?

“Who the hell is the High Council”

“The heads of the Overseers. We operate Monday through Saturday from 8 am to 6 pm. Would you like an appointment?”

“Fine, Monday 3 o’clock?”

“That will work perfectly. I’ll send you an email confirmation with the location. Please bring the files with you for the meeting.” The line abruptly disconnects. 

Sure enough, ten seconds later I get a notification that I received a new email in my inbox. I don’t even want to know how they have my email address already. 

I tell Will what happened at the call, and his look of concern continues to grow. He’s hesitant to let me go to the meeting by myself, and he said the only way he wouldn’t tell my mom is if he went with me. I reluctantly agree to the terms of the deal. Now we have to wait two more days for the meeting.

The time since the phone call has gone by excruciatingly slowly. I spent Sunday trying to research omnipathy and the Overseers, and found nothing online. I’ve been racking my brain trying to figure out how Elijah got swept up in all this. The one thing that I know for sure is that the Overseers don’t know I have omnipathy yet, and I intend to keep it that way.

 I have to go to school today, otherwise my Mom will know something is wrong. I haven’t been doing any school work and am really behind. But who can blame me, I have a dark superpower, a missing brother, and a secret meeting with an extremely sketchy elite organization. I get ready for school with my usual routine. However, this time when I stand in front of the mirror, the blank spot on my forehead blares out at me. Its emptiness insults me, like a rhetorical question that dares me to wonder about the evilest parts of myself. In some ways I wish I could see my secret, but in others I’m happy I can’t. 

As I ride the subway, I daze off into philosophical thought. When I see people's secrets, my mind immediately judges them. Their identity is solely composed of their darkest truth. People I once looked up to and held with respect, I can’t help but be disgusted by. How can I ever look at anyone the same again? 

As I sit through my classes, Will and I text back and forth about the meeting after school. The address that was sent in the email leads to a tower in the business district. Will insisted on bringing a taser, which he doesn’t even know how to use. Even if he did know how to use one, I don’t think it would be much help in a secluded building with security guards.

At the end of the day, me and Will meet outside the front office. As I approach him, he pulls out the taser from his backpack with a proud expression on his face. I shake my head from embarrassment and grab his arm to start our journey to the subway. 

“So what’s the game plan?” Will asks eagerly. 

“There is no plan. I go in, see what they know about Elijah, and get the hell out.”

“That’s it? What if they try to do something or kidnap us?”

“I guess we’ll just wing it”, I say as I shrug my shoulders. 

“Well if you’re not making a plan, I’ll make one.”

“Alright fine, if it makes you feel better to have a plan go ahead..”

Unlike the sketchy alleyway we went to before, this building is in one of the fanciest areas of New York. You can find all of the biggest corporations in the Financial district, which means that the Overseers have to be loaded. That scares me even more. 

Will and I look very out of place amongst all of the business suits and briefcases. We wander around aimlessly, admiring the skyscrapers and modern architecture. The pavements are clean cut and there isn’t a piece of dirt or garbage in sight. The glass windows all around us beam our reflections from every angle. The tall buildings make me feel sunken into the ground, like I’m in between an insignificant crevice. After marveling at the luxurious premises, there’s one building that particularly stands out. The entire building is at a slant, which forms a diamond shape at its peak. The outside is covered with tinted glass except for the first floor which showcases an enormous light fixture and colorful paintings.  The outside seems to be glimmering, inviting you in with its charm. At this moment Will and I realize that this building is the address that the woman sent in her email. 

We go up the staircase that leads to the entrance, and the automatic doors swing open. Yet again, another man is sitting at a large marble front desk. He’s clacking away at a computer and facing the other direction so we can’t see his face. When he hears the doors fly open, he swivels around in his chair. At this moment, I realize it’s the same man with the glasses from the tattoo shop’s desk. . Once he recognizes me and Will, his face recoils into a disgusted expression.

“You two again”, he says flippantly. 

Still shocked that it’s the same man, I stand there in silence. 

Will steps in front of me and states, “We have an appointment this time.”

“Okay then.”

The man gets up from his desk and begins speed walking toward a set of glass elevators. We assume that this is our queue to follow him, and we hurry to trail behind him. He pushes the button, and taps his foot impatiently waiting for the elevator to arrive. Once we get in, the man pushes the 67th floor, and we shoot upwards. The suddenness of the movement makes me lose my balance, and I have to brace myself on the railing. I see out of the corner of my eye that the front desk worker snickers a little. Once we reach our floor, me and Will get out of the elevator car. The man stays inside and does a small wave before shooting down to the first floor again. When we look around, we realize that this floor contains a singular conference room. A woman with white hair in a white pantsuit is sitting at the head of the table. The first thing I take into account is the message on her forehead: ” I am head of a secret, elite, and dangerous government agency”

 When she notices our exit from the elevator, she gives a friendly wave and motions for us to come in. Will and I look at each other, and do a silent check-in to see if we should go into the room. I whisper what I read into his ear and give a nod, after which we hesitantly enter the empty and minimal meeting room. We choose the seats closest to the door and farthest from the mysterious woman. 

“Well hello there! It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance. My name is Selene, and you two must be Delyla and Will. I trust your journey to the building wasn’t too challenging?”, she says grinning with all her teeth.

“Um, yes it was fine”, I say choppily. 

“Well I heard you had some concerns regarding your brother, and I’d like to address those right now.”

“Okay, first off, how do you even know him?”

“I’m sure by now you're familiar with the Overseers, but perhaps you're less familiar with their role. We collect special talents and persons to both monitor and use for the benefit of the country. Your brother being one of such people, is of particular interest to us. His gift, omnipathy, is extremely rare.”

“How did you even know that he had omnipathy in the first place?”

“It’s hard to explain, but all you need to know is that we gather our intel from a form of government surveillance.” 

“Well that’s extremely vague.”

“I’m sorry I can’t give you much more detail than that.”

“Okay moving on then, when you say you collect special talents what exactly does that mean? What were you planning on doing with Elijah?” 

“Nothing is against our participants' will. As you saw from the packet given to you, we conducted a series of interviews with Elijah. He was ready to do whatever it takes to serve his government. We were actually just about to send him on his first mission when he disappeared.”

“So you’re saying that Elijah wanted to be a part of whatever this is?”

“Of course. We have people from all around the world just like Elijah, who all possess gifts that are just waiting to be put to use.”

“So you just know absolutely nothing about his disappearance? I find that hard to believe.”

“Why would we lie? We want to find Elijah just as much as you do.”

“Okay so let’s say that I do decide to trust you, where do we go from here?”, I ask.

“Well you know Elijah best. We would like you to help us find him.”

“Me? How would I be of any help?”

“I mean you found us didn’t you? Do some more digging around your house and at school. We will give you any assistance that you desire.”, she states without breaking eye contact.

I have a feeling that she won’t take no for an answer, so I agree to what she asks. We set up a follow up meeting in one week to talk about any developments I’ve made. I don’t actually plan on sharing anything of importance with her, but I’d like to stay on the Overseer's good side. If there’s one thing that I’ve learned from this meeting, it is that I need to find Elijah before they do. I know that what Selene told me is only a small sliver of the truth, and the only person I can really trust to tell me the full story is Elijah. After this interaction with Selene, I realize that in some ways my power is my biggest asset. I can find out information about the Overseers that they perhaps don’t want me knowing. I have a feeling that when they said they “collect people”, it’s more than just hiring them as an employee.

After Will and I exit the building, we both agree that we should try to keep Selene happy, because underneath her charming exterior is something less agreeable. Although I’m hesitant to keep Will in on the plan and jeopardize his safety, I selfishly really could use the help and someone to vent to. We decide that the best course of action is to do a deep search of Elijah’s room and try to find any remaining clues. No one besides me and my mom have been in his room since he left, and in some ways it feels like I’m invading his sense of privacy. However, I know Elijah would understand and do the same for me. Luckily when we get home to my apartment, my mom is passed-out on the couch. I walk Will back to Elijah’s room, and am calmed by the familiar blue walls. 

Will says that he’ll start to go through the desk while I start to tackle the closet. Before we know it clothes and papers are flying in every direction imaginable. I’m hypnotized by my search, and lose track of all time and awareness. The swirl of colors has me in a frenzy, and I don’t even remember what I’m looking for. After some time, Will and I sit slouched on the floor and strewn amongst the various papers and clothing items from exhaustion. Elijah’s room looks like it’s been victim to a tornado, and we are just as empty-handed as before. The silence is deafening, and I have no idea what else I could possibly do to find Elijah. 

“I don’t think we’re going to find anything else here”, Will says quietly. 

“Well what else can we do? We have no direction to go in.”

“Do you still have that packet from the tattoo place?”

“Of course I do.”

“Well we’ll read all the interviews again, and see if Elijah mentioned anything.”

I get up from my position on the floor to go get the packet from a drawer in my kitchen. As I begin to walk, my foot steps on a newspaper clipping that catches air and slowly floats down again to the ground. I pick it up and notice that it's a column ad for apartment listings in the city, and one address is circled in red-ink. My face radiates with satisfaction. Will looks extremely confused as I hand him the clipping. Once he reads the ad, we look at each other with triumph. We are onto something.

It was too late to go to the address after we searched Elijah’s room, so we decided to go after school tomorrow. Currently, I’m having trouble falling asleep because of a nightmare about the Overseers. All I can picture is Selene’s entrancing face, and what would happen if she found out that I was like my brother. I toss and turn with restlessness, and can see myself being poked and prodded to divulge others secrets. I finally give up on trying to sleep, and stare at my ceiling in contemplation for several hours. After dozens of imagined scenarios that all end with me captured by the Overseers, I finally hear the familiar sound of my alarm clock. When I see myself in the mirror, my face is swallowed by two dark under-eye bags. Eyeliner and makeup would just make the situation worse, so the only thing I do to get ready is throw on a new pair of clothes. As I enter the kitchen, I notice my mom sitting at the kitchen counter. My mom being alert at this time in the morning is extremely odd. 

One thing I should probably mention is that we haven’t really spoken at all the past week. There’s been lots of awkward stares and avoiding, but no actual words. I think she has to somewhat know that I’ve been trying to look for Elijah. A couple nights this week I have caught her sitting in his room, and looking at the photos on his desk with tears streaming down her face. She has no hope that he’s still alive.

I try to glide by her to reach the door without conversation but she grabs my arm. She looks at me earnestly and says, “Be careful Delyla, I can’t lose you too.” The statement catches me off guard, and I break my arm free and run out the door. I begin to hyperventilate in the hallway. If only she knew how dangerous the situation really was. I don’t give myself time to ruminate and begin my usual route to school.      

When I see Will at lunch he says, “Did you get any sleep last night?”

I laugh and respond, “No can you tell?”

I begin to tell Will about the nightmare I had, and he gives an occasional understanding nod. After I’m done venting he says, “That’s not ever going to happen to you. I promise”. 

Even though I know there is no guarantee to what he says,   the reassurance is comforting and settles me. We figure out our subway routes for later, and then go back to class. 

At the end of the day we walk to the platform and begin our journey to this random apartment. Yet again, we don’t know what to expect, but all I can hope for is that it's not a dead end. We zoom through the grunginess of the tunnels, and watch people get on and off at every stop. The one thing that I love about the subways is the people watching. For example, today there’s an old woman with a colorful head wrap and a brightly striped skirt that twists around her body. She hobbles around the subway car with a cane, while talking obnoxiously into her phone. From her appearance, it seems like she is eccentric yet extremely aloof. However, on her forehead it reads:

“I am the owner of a large drug front”

I chuckle to myself of amusement, and rotate my gaze around the car to find more individuals to observe. 

Of course our stop is the very last one, and by this point we are the only ones left in the train. The glass doors slide open squeakily, as we cautiously exit. Once we leave the platform, we realize that the apartment complex is in view. The building is brown and rotting, with fire escapes lining each window. You have to take a small staircase down to the front door, where there’s a series of doorbells for each apartment number, and last names sketched in with a sharpie. I look over the last names, and there is no McCallister. But Elijah wouldn’t be that stupid, he would use a fake name. I take another look at the names and see Laurier, my mothers maiden name. I press the button and a screeching buzz projects through the machine. Will and I cover our ears, and wait for the dreadful noise to stop. Suddenly, a man’s voice comes through the intercom. 

“What do you want!”, the voice shouts out. 

A feeling of uneasiness washes over me, and I have to collect myself. 

“Um hello, my name is Delyla. Have you happened to hear of anyone named Elijah McCallister?”

Another buzzing noise ensues, and the locking mechanism on the door opens. The voice does not respond again.  I look at Will confusingly, as he pushes open the door so we can step inside the building. 

Once inside, we are met with door after door, and we begin our search for apartment 4D. The walls are a putrid yellow color, which have large brown water stains. Each door is made out of cheap white wood with cracks and chips. Some of the numbers and letters have rubbed off, making it hard to read. Once we’ve searched the entire first floor, we make our way to the second. Again, no apartment 4D. Finally, we go to the third floor. To our surprise, this floor contains only a single door. In the very back of the hall sure enough is the brass number, 4D. We approach the door, and reach out my knuckles to knock three times. On the second knock, the door swings open, and we are face to face with a strange man. He’s short, bald, and wearing some sort of cowboy hat. 

“Well what are you waiting for, come on in”, he says while extending his hand past the door frame. 

Will and I proceed to enter the room, which is filled with pack and pack of newspapers.

“Have a seat, go on!”, he says while patting the couch. 

We approach the coach, and clear off the newspapers so we can sit. 

“My name is Ray if you were wondering, but I won’t waste time with pleasantries. What business do y’all have with Elijah?”

“I’m actually his sister. He’s been missing the past couple months and we found something that lead us here.”

“Ah yes, he told me about you. Well I can tell ya one thing he was definitely staying here. I’m afraid he left about a week ago.”

“Wait you talked to him?”
“Well I would hope so I’m the landlord. Last time we spoke he asked me to watch over his place for a little bit. Didn’t say where he was going or when he was coming back. When people stay here they tend to not like questions, so I mind my own business.”

“Are you sure he didn’t say absolutely anything about where he was headed?”

“All he said was something about taking care of something with a cabin”

A cabin? All of a sudden it clicked in my brain. We used to have a cabin out by Greenwood Lake that we would go to in the summer. It would be the perfect place to hide out because it’s literally in the middle of the forest. 

“Thank you so much Ray that really helps. Do you mind if we take a look around before we leave?”

“Not at all. I’ll be in apartment 2F if ya need me”, he says while staggering out of the room. 

Will gets off the couch first, and enters the next room on my left. I take a moment to sink into the couch, and hold onto the fact that at some point Elijah was here. He had probably sat exactly where I am. I close my eyes and picture him sitting next to me smiling. 

Will peeks his head from around the corner and says, “What are you doing?”

“Oh sorry, nothing”, I respond as I shoot up. 

I follow Will into the room, which has a twin sized bed and a dodgy looking bathroom. There’s a closet in the right corner, which still contains some of Elijah’s clothes. Although this may be one of the most disgusting apartments I’ve ever been in, I can’t help but smile. Will squeezes my shoulder and says, “We’re going to find him.”

“I know”, I respond.