Guess who's back?

"Mom, we can't go back there," Coraline argued. "We left for a reason."

"And that reason was so that your father and I could publish our books." Her mother began, chewing on a piece of broccoli before she continued, "Not the quarrel you had with that neighbour kid."

"I'm going to look like a fucking idiot-"

"Language, Coraline," Her father interrupted, his voice growing. "But your mother is right. We're not going to cancel the move because of some rando' feud you had with some rando' kid."

"He wasn't just random," she mumbled, too quiet for her parents to hear. If only they knew. "Why are we even leaving? I'm literally graduating in two years or so, it's going to be such a hassle." Coraline rolled her head and eyes as she added emphasis on the three last words.

"Trust me, Coraline, we wouldn't move back if we didn't need to. The truth is, we can't afford this city life anymore, especially with your education."

"So it's my fault?" Coraline sassed, pushing away her long, blue-layered hair past her shoulders. She normally didn't act like this when things came her way, however, this time was different. This time, it was about Him.

"It's not your fault, Sweetheart. It's tough being two writers working in an expensive city. The prices in Ashland are just way cheaper, and that's all we can afford right now." Charles explained. That was basically everything Mother just said, Coraline thought. But then another thought occurred to her.

"Are we staying in the Pink Palace?" She asked, suddenly very intrigued by what her parents had to say. "That place?"

Mrs. and Mr. Jones looked at each other. "Coraline we know about your nightmares but-"

"No, no I can't do it again." Coraline stood from her chair, causing a loud screech to echo around the room. Flashes of the Other Mother, the Garden, Mr. Bobinski, and her father sinking into the river began to flash before her eyes. Coraline stumbled backward.

"The nightmares, the house... And Him."

—

"Hey Grandma" Wybie smiled, sitting down at the table as he settled a plate of spaghetti in front of her. "What's the news?"

Ms. Lovat cleared her throat, and put down the daily newspaper. Wybie had always wondered why she even bothered to read it. In Ashland, nothing new or unexpected ever happened. The last big event that occurred was three months ago when Wybie's girlfriend— Isabelle Richards— "accidentally" dropped her homework into the well. And to this day, they were still talking about it, as well as heaven's new addition, Alice, one of the many dogs of Miss Spink and Miss Forcible.

"Well Wyborn, I wanted to tell you that I will be renting out the Pink Palace to a family this year." Ms. Lovat coughed again, her voice rough and coarse.

Wybie smiled. "That's great, but what happened to the Millers?"

"They were a bit creeped out by the place, and left after their kids began having nightmares, and saying they saw ghosts at night."

Wybie blinked, "Oh." He cleared his throat. "Um, so, who are you renting the Palace to?"

Ms. Lovat put a forkful of spaghetti into her mouth and began to talk. "Actually, we've rented to them before."

"The Adams? They were so nice," He smiled, beginning to down his cup of water.

"No, actually." Ms. Lovat responded, finally swallowing her food while she pushed the newspaper over to Wybie, where there was a picture of a woman and man who stood behind a small, short blue-haired girl. "The Jones."

As his eyes widened, Wybie began to choke on his water. "WHAT?"