Chapter 4:
– Amy –
After making their way through a wolf-infested forest and stumbling across some weird magic stones that apparently helped people train better as warriors, thieves, or mages—or something equally strange—Amy and her companions finally arrived in a small village called Riverwood.
Ralof had family in this village, which was lucky, because none of them had a single coin to their names. His sister turned out to be surprisingly kind and welcoming, nearly bursting into tears upon seeing Ralof alive. She thanked the group repeatedly for saving her brother, practically smothering Amy, Silas, and Hildra with gratitude.
She even insisted they accept a small sack filled with gold coins. Amy couldn't help but grin, it was nice to finally be paid for her services.
But by the time they finally left Ralof's sister, exhaustion weighed heavily on Amy. Spotting an inn at the center of the village, she immediately insisted they stop there. She was sore, tired, and more than ready for a break.
Ralof thanked them all again, but informed them that he couldn't stay in Riverwood. He had to regroup with what remained of his "rebel army" or whatever the hell it was. Amy still had no idea what the rebels were fighting about, and honestly, she didn't care enough to find out. She just wanted to rest.
They said their goodbyes to Ralof, who quickly disappeared back into the shadows, and then the three remaining strange companions entered the inn together. They found a table tucked away in the corner and sat down heavily, ordering food and drinks from a barmaid who eyed them all very curiously.
Amy glanced around the dimly lit room, grimacing slightly. Nothing here looked even close to sanitary, at least not compared to her standards from working in a hospital. She sighed. Still, she supposed beggars couldn't be choosers—not in whatever strange fantasy world she'd been dragged into.
If anything, Amy had always figured that if some insane, reality-bending bullshit ever happened, it would happen to her sister, Vicky—not her. Vicky would have probably enjoyed this kind of mess, heroically punching dragons or something equally stupid. Amy scowled slightly at that thought.
The barmaid placed a mug of something called "mead" in front of Amy, who eyed it skeptically before taking a hesitant sip. To her surprise, it was actually better than she'd expected. She took another drink, feeling warmth spread slowly through her chest.
As they relaxed at the table, Amy noticed Hildra smiling softly at her, while Silas casually glanced in her direction every now and then. Amy took another quick gulp of mead and decided it was time to finally put her foot down.
"Alright, you two," Amy said firmly, setting her mug down with a soft thud. She leaned forward slightly, locking eyes with both Silas and Hildra. "I need to say something. Listen carefully, because I'm not saying it again—I am not some easy girl!"
Silas immediately sat up straighter, his expression shifting into one of awkward embarrassment. Hildra simply raised her eyebrows, curious but calm, clearly interested in what Amy had to say.
Amy exhaled slowly, softening her voice slightly. "Look, I...appreciate the compliments, okay? And honestly, they've given my confidence a bit of a boost today—which I kind of needed after nearly dying to a dragon. But I'd really like it if you both cooled it for now."
Silas's face fell slightly, looking genuinely remorseful. "Sorry, Amy," he apologized quickly, sincerity clear in his voice. "I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable."
Amy felt a small twinge of guilt at his apology. Silas hadn't exactly made her uncomfortable—she just didn't think it was the right moment for romance, especially considering they were literally stranded in another dimension.
"I wasn't exactly uncomfortable," she clarified, softening her voice further. "It's just—well, this isn't exactly the ideal time for flirting. We're lost, Silas. In a completely different world. It's hard enough to handle that without worrying about feelings and...stuff."
Silas nodded slowly, offering her a small, understanding smile. Amy turned her attention toward Hildra, who was still watching her carefully.
"My sincerest apologies, fair maiden," Hildra said with a gentle laugh, her voice warm and reassuring. "I only meant to lighten the mood during all this chaos. I certainly didn't intend to make you uncomfortable."
Amy couldn't stop the small blush that spread across her cheeks at being called "fair maiden" again. Still, she appreciated Hildra's sincerity and willingness to back off. She offered the woman a small smile.
"Thanks," Amy replied quietly, her irritation fading rapidly. "I know you meant well."
"Of course," Hildra responded smoothly, eyes sparkling playfully, though she kept her voice gentle. "You have my word—I'll behave myself, at least until we're safely out of danger."
Amy laughed softly despite herself, feeling some of the tension finally leave her body.
The three of them settled back into their chairs, picking at the bread and cheese the barmaid had left at the table. Amy finally turned her attention fully toward Silas again, her voice becoming serious once more.
"So," Amy began, leaning in again slightly, her brown eyes fixing firmly on Silas. "What exactly should we do now? You've apparently got some clue about what's happening in this weird fantasy world, right…?"
– Silas –
Hildra nodded thoughtfully, considering Amy's question before shifting her attention back to me. Her voice was low and cautious. "So, Silas, tell me honestly—are you both really on some quest to slay a dragon?"
As soon as the word 'dragon' left her mouth, I noticed the blonde innkeeper abruptly pause her sweeping nearby. Her posture changed completely, back straightening slightly, head tilting in our direction. Her attempt at subtlety was laughably bad—she was clearly eavesdropping. Nosy little spy.
I leaned back slightly, giving her a pointed stare. "Why don't you just come join us, Delphine?" I called out, loud enough for her to hear clearly. "I feel like this conversation might be important for you."
The innkeeper jerked in surprise, quickly turning around. She pointed innocently at herself, eyes wide with feigned confusion. "Sorry, have we met before?"
I shrugged casually, not fooled by her innocent act. "Fine, don't come over. I guess you don't want to meet the woman you're supposedly sworn to serve."
Beside me, Amy and Hildra exchanged bewildered glances. Amy arched an eyebrow suspiciously, while Hildra seemed genuinely confused. Neither of them had any idea who this random innkeeper was or why she mattered, but I certainly did.
Delphine narrowed her eyes sharply at me, her playful expression gone instantly, replaced by cold suspicion. For a tense moment, I wondered if she'd actually attack me. I discreetly shifted one hand beneath the table, feeling sparks of my newly-acquired spell flicker at my fingertips, just in case.
After another tense beat, Delphine sighed deeply, visibly frustrated, and strode over to our table, pulling out the empty chair directly across from me. She sat down stiffly, her piercing gaze locked onto mine. "Alright," she said quietly but forcefully, leaning in. "Who are you, really, and what exactly do you want?"
"My name's Silas," I began calmly, meeting her stare without flinching. "This is my friend, Amy—"
"More like acquaintances," Amy interrupted, rolling her eyes dramatically. "Don't get carried away."
I ignored her comment, exhaling slightly and gesturing toward Hildra. "And this is Hildra—the Dragonborn."
Delphine's jaw literally dropped open, her eyes widening in disbelief. "What did you just call her?"
At the same moment, Hildra turned sharply toward me, looking equally startled. Her face had gone pale beneath her golden blonde hair, blue eyes wide and disbelieving. "Excuse me—what did you call me?"
"The Dragonborn," I repeated firmly, holding her gaze steadily. "That's you, Hildra. You're the hero destined to stop the dragons. The only person in the world who can truly defeat them."
Hildra immediately shook her head, her voice rising slightly in protest. "No, Silas—that's impossible. The Dragonborn is nothing but an ancient Nord legend, a children's bedtime story. It's not real, just a myth. And I'm definitely not some hero from legend."
I shook my head stubbornly. "I promise you, Hildra, it's not a myth. And you absolutely are the Dragonborn. There's an easy way to prove it."
Hildra narrowed her eyes skeptically, still clearly doubting every word out of my mouth. "And what exactly is that?"
"In the next day or two," I explained carefully, deliberately, glancing between all three women at the table, "a dragon is going to attack the city of Whiterun. If we go there and kill it, you'll absorb its soul. That's something only the Dragonborn can do. Trust me—it's definitive proof."
The silence that followed was thick and uncomfortable. Amy stared at me like I'd completely lost my mind, while Hildra still seemed torn between skepticism and a reluctant sense of curiosity. Delphine, however, leaned forward sharply, her voice harsh and demanding.
"And how exactly," she hissed through gritted teeth, "do you know all of this? How could you possibly know when or where dragons will appear, or who I secretly am?"
Before I could respond, Amy snorted loudly beside me, draining another gulp of her mead. "Good luck getting answers, blondie," she said sarcastically, shooting a pointed glare in my direction. "I've only known Silas for a few hours, and I can already confirm that both he and whatever powers he's gotten himself mixed up with are complete and utter bullshit."
I gave her an exasperated look, feeling my eyebrow twitch slightly. "Thanks, Amy. You're really helping."
She shrugged, clearly unbothered. "Just keeping it real, hero-boy. You're welcome."
Delphine crossed her arms impatiently, fixing me with an even colder glare. "I'm still waiting for an explanation, Silas. Or should I be calling you something else?"
"Nope, Silas is fine," I replied calmly, meeting her angry gaze directly. "Look, Delphine, I'm not your enemy. You have your secrets, I have mine. But right now, we're on the same side."
"How do you know my name, though?" Delphine pressed aggressively. "And how in Oblivion do you know about the Dragonborn legend?"
I sighed softly, realizing I'd have to offer something plausible. "Divination magic," I lied easily. "It's a rare gift, and it tells me things—important things. Like your real identity, your mission, and what's coming. You're with the Blades, aren't you?"
Delphine inhaled sharply at the mention of her secret organization, her body visibly tensing even further. "You're playing a dangerous game, boy," she warned quietly.
"I'm not playing anything," I retorted firmly, keeping my voice calm but steady. "Right now, dragons are returning, and Hildra here is the key to stopping them. You can either help us, or you can stay here and play pretty little innkeeper…"
I was trying a little reverse psychology here. In truth, I mostly wanted Delphine with us because she was a very experienced warrior. She would help our survival odds by a lot.
Delphine stared at me intensely for several more seconds before letting out a frustrated sigh, leaning back slightly. "Very well," she relented bitterly. "I will journey to Whiterun with you all, but if you're lying…" she trailed off, her warning was obvious.
Now that all the drama was out of the way, I turned shamelessly toward Delphine. "Hey, before we set out—do you have some spare weapons and armor we could borrow? The only person here with proper gear is Hildra, and honestly, even hers is pretty subpar," I explained.
"Hey!" Hildra immediately protested, pouting at me indignantly. "This armor saved my life at Helgen, thank you very much."
I smirked at her lightly. "Yeah, barely. I'm pretty sure Amy's "magic" did most of the saving there. It certainly didn't stop the giant spider from biting you." I teased and she playfully smacked my arm.
Delphine glared at me for a long, irritated moment before finally sighing and rising from her seat. "Fine. Follow me," she said curtly, heading toward the back of the inn. I exchanged quick looks with Amy and Hildra, and we all stood up and trailed after her.
She led us down a short hallway, past a couple of empty guest rooms, and then unlocked a sturdy wooden door leading to what appeared to be her private quarters. Delphine stepped inside and gestured impatiently. "Close the door behind you," she commanded.
I pushed the door shut, then watched curiously as she stepped over to the far wall and shoved aside a large wooden cabinet. It slid away to reveal a hidden passageway with a staircase descending into darkness below the inn.
"Wow," Amy mused sarcastically. "A secret room hidden behind a cabinet? How original." She shot me a suspicious glance and lowered her voice slightly. "Hey Silas, are we sure she's not secretly a villain or something?"
"Honestly?" I whispered back, following Delphine down the stairs. "I was never really sure what she was..." She was a very paranoid bitch in the game.
The stairs ended in a small underground room filled with shelves, chests, and a large table positioned at the center. Spread across the tabletop was a detailed map of Skyrim, marked with various locations and notes that meant nothing to me yet. What drew my attention even more were the weapons hanging on every wall. Axes, swords, daggers, maces—each one looking far more lethal and imposing than anything from the game.
"So cool…" I murmured quietly to myself, awestruck for a moment.
Delphine waved dismissively toward the weapons around us. "Go ahead. Choose whatever stuff you're most comfortable with. But don't get greedy."
Amy immediately shook her head. "Uh, I'm a healer. I've never used a weapon in my life."
I scratched my head sheepishly, feeling slightly embarrassed. "Yeah, about that…me neither, actually. I was hoping you might have some spare magic tomes I could use instead?"
Delphine and Hildra both gaped at me, their eyes wide with disbelief. For a second, neither spoke, until Delphine finally broke the silence. "Are you stupid, boy?" she asked bluntly.
Hildra quickly added, sounding genuinely shocked, "Silas, do you not understand how valuable magic tomes are?"
"No…?" I replied hesitantly, suddenly feeling awkward. "Are they really that valuable?
In the game, you could buy tomes from pretty much every merchant. They were everywhere.
Delphine scoffed loudly, clearly unimpressed with my answer. "Of course you can't just buy them anywhere. Magic has been strictly regulated throughout all of Tamriel since the Oblivion Crisis. And then, nearly a hundred years ago, the College of Winterhold attempted some insane magical ritual that went catastrophically wrong. It destroyed almost the entire city and half of the surrounding hold. After that disaster, magic was practically outlawed in Skyrim."
"That spell tome you found back in the tunnels, Silas? It was incredibly rare and valuable. If you'd sold it, you probably could have purchased a large estate," Hildra explained to me.
"Well, fuck," I muttered. Yet another major difference from the game I'd have to deal with. I hadn't realized magic was so restricted here. I guess it made sense from a real life perspective.
And did she just say the College of Winterhold was destroyed?
…My plans of eventually buying a whole arsenal of powerful spells were suddenly dashed.
At least I had my Sparks spell—I'd have to settle for just being a knock-off Palpatine for now.
I didn't even bother asking about enchanted gear, figuring I'd get an equally disappointing answer. Instead, I shifted my attention toward the armor racks nearby, selecting a set of sturdy-looking leather armor. I strapped it over my clothes, tightening the buckles until it fit comfortably.
Amy surprised me when she shook her head, turning away from the armor racks without taking anything. "I don't need any of this stuff," she explained casually. "My costume is already bulletproof."
"Wait—seriously?" I stared at her in shock, openly inspecting her healer costume. It looked like a regular cape uniform from Earth Bet, but upon closer inspection, the fabric was noticeably thicker, reinforced beneath its plain exterior. I mentally kicked myself; of course Amy Dallon—Panacea, the most valuable healer on our world—would have custom protective gear.
She gave me an amused look. "Obviously. You think New Wave would let the world's only healer walk around without decent armor?"
"Fair enough," I muttered sheepishly. At least one of us had come to this insane new reality prepared.
Turning back to the weapons hanging ominously on the wall, I hesitated. I still had no idea how long I could actually sustain my Sparks spell before running out of magicka. Honestly, I hadn't even realized I had magicka until a few hours ago. I needed a backup plan in case I ran dry in the middle of combat.
With a sigh, I reached out and grabbed a solid-looking steel mace. It was heavy in my grip, the weight awkward but manageable. Giving it a couple experimental swings, I quickly realized my form was atrocious. I'd never swung anything more dangerous than a kitchen knife before, and it showed.
"Going for a mace?" Hildra asked curiously from beside me, clearly watching my awkward movements with amusement. "An unusual choice."
"Yeah, well, I doubt I have time to suddenly become a master swordsman," I admitted, slipping the mace securely into my belt straps. "Besides, I'm pretty sure crushing weapons might work better against dragon scales anyway—assuming I don't get roasted alive before I can even swing."
Delphine scoffed, already impatiently heading toward the stairs. "Try not to bash your own brains out, boy. I don't have time to babysit you."
"I'll try my best," I deadpanned.
We followed her back up into the inn. Delphine called out as we passed through the main hall, "I'm heading out, Orgnar! Watch the inn while I'm gone."
The large man behind the bar simply grunted and went back to polishing a mug, clearly unbothered.
Outside, Delphine and Hildra immediately turned toward me expectantly, making me feel uncomfortably self-conscious again. Both women fixed me with serious stares, obviously waiting for answers.
"Well?" Delphine asked impatiently. "You're supposedly the one with divination magic. What's our next move?"
I hesitated, mentally retracing the game's timeline. Normally, the dragon attacking Whiterun didn't happen until after you climbed that ridiculously tall mountain across from Riverwood—Bleak Falls Barrow—and stole the Dragonstone from an undead-infested tomb full of Draugr. Of course, that was probably just scripted game logic. In reality, timing might be completely different. Still, having the Dragonstone might actually matter. Or maybe not since Amy and I were going to be sticking around after the dragon anyway.
Deciding to test the waters, I carefully asked, "How do you guys feel about raiding an ancient tomb filled with undead monsters called Draugr, then fighting their boss—a Draugr Overlord who can literally shout magic at you and wields a ridiculously powerful enchanted sword?"
Delphine's eyes went wide in utter disbelief, and Hildra visibly paled beside her. Both women stared at me like I'd just suggested we slit our own throats.
"Are you completely insane?" Delphine snapped, her voice rising sharply. "That would take dozens—no, perhaps even a hundred well-trained Nord warriors. And even then, almost all of them would be slaughtered. Only suicidal fools raid Skyrim's tombs. I've never once heard of anyone successfully retrieving something from a Draugr crypt!"
Hildra nodded emphatically, her blue eyes wide with shock. "She's right, Silas. That's not just dangerous—it's impossible! Even attempting such a feat would be madness."
I blinked in surprise, digesting their reactions. It explained why all the tombs were still perfectly untouched after thousands of years. In-game, the Dragonborn was practically invincible—able to casually stroll through hordes of undead, collect treasures, and kill powerful overlords without a second thought. But here, in this real-life Skyrim, things were apparently very, very different. I suddenly understood why Delphine and Hildra were so horrified.
"Alright, alright," I said, quickly backtracking. "Forget the tomb idea for now. I think the dragon attack on Whiterun is probably inevitable anyway."
"You think?" Amy muttered sarcastically, parroting me. "So glad we're relying on your expert knowledge, Silas."
I rolled my eyes at her but ignored the jab. "Let's just head straight to Whiterun. We need to warn the Jarl and get ready for the attack. If Hildra kills that dragon and absorbs its soul, it'll prove she's the Dragonborn."
Hildra swallowed uneasily, clearly still skeptical about the whole Dragonborn thing, but she didn't argue further. Delphine crossed her arms impatiently, clearly eager to move.
"Then let's hurry," she said brusquely. "It'll be dark soon, and it's dangerous to travel after sundown. Bandits and wolves come out in force at night."
Amy groaned loudly. "Bandits? Actual bandits? Great, because wolves weren't already enough of a pain in the ass..."
As we began walking, I suddenly stopped, feeling a nagging sensation in the back of my mind. There was something else—something important—I was forgetting about Whiterun. I frowned, rubbing my temple, trying to recall whatever crucial detail I was missing.
"You okay, Silas?" Amy asked, noticing my hesitation.
"Yeah…" I said slowly, shaking my head. "Just can't shake the feeling that I'm forgetting something really important..."
Amy raised an eyebrow skeptically. "Wonderful. That's exactly the kind of reassuring leadership I wanted to hear."
Ignoring her sarcasm again, I sighed heavily and began walking, following Delphine and Hildra toward Whiterun. Whatever I'd forgotten, I hoped I'd remember it soon—preferably before something terrible happened.
…
"Ugh…"
…Something terrible happened.
At least, I was pretty sure it had? My ears were ringing so loudly it hurt, and I was lying face-up in the dirt, staring blankly at a blurry gray sky. Everything felt off, fuzzy, disjointed. Slowly, I became aware of someone leaning over me, but my vision refused to focus.
A soft, gentle hand pressed against my cheek, and I immediately recognized the familiar sensation of Amy's healing power flowing through me. The ringing subsided, leaving a dull, throbbing ache that faded quickly after. I blinked a few times, finally able to see clearly again.
Amy leaned over me, frowning deeply, her eyes full of concern and irritation. "You okay now, dumbass?"
"Uh…I think so," I muttered groggily, sitting up with a small grunt. Dirt clung to my clothes and skin, and I realized I was sitting in the middle of what looked like a freshly ruined farm field. Crops were trampled, fences shattered, and there were huge craters gouged into the earth.
"What the hell happened?" I asked, still feeling confused. I glanced around, noticing for the first time a group of imposing-looking Nord warriors standing nearby. All of them wore armor decorated with wolf imagery, and every single one was staring at Amy and me in open awe.
From a few feet away, Hildra smiled widely, her face splattered with blood and dirt. She was breathing heavily, clearly still worked up from whatever fight I'd missed. "That was incredible, Silas!"
Delphine stood beside her, looking distinctly annoyed as she picked dirt from her armor. She gave me a mildly irritated glance, clearly unimpressed by the situation. "Next time, try dodging."
"Yeah…I'll keep that in mind," I muttered, rubbing my temples. Dodging WHAT exactly?
Amy sighed loudly beside me. "That's twice now," she grumbled, narrowing her eyes accusingly at me. "Twice today I've broken my rules about not healing brains..."
"Sorry?" I offered sheepishly.
She just shook her head, clearly exasperated but relieved I wasn't dead. "Just don't tell anyone what I can do when we get back home."
"Your secret is safe with me."
At that moment, a strikingly attractive Nord woman walked up to us, capturing my attention immediately. She had vivid red hair spilling down her shoulders, sharp green eyes accented by tribal green face paint, and she wore minimalistic leather armor that did little to hide her impressively toned, athletic body. I recognized her immediately from the game as Aela the Huntress—though this real-life version was considerably more captivating.
"My thanks for your aid, strangers," she said warmly, giving us a friendly but confident smile. "I'm Aela of the Companions. Your timely assistance in defeating those giants was most impressive. Truly, we would have suffered heavy losses without your intervention."
"Giants?" I repeated blankly, still somewhat dazed. "We fought giants?"
Amy rolled her eyes beside me, muttering, "Yeah, well, some of us fought giants. You mostly got smacked unconscious within the first five seconds."
Aela chuckled softly at Amy's blunt comment, clearly amused. "Regardless, your contributions were invaluable. That lightning spell of yours stunned the giants enough to give us openings to strike, and your companion here saved three of our warriors from near-certain death with her remarkable healing magic. Not many survive a direct hit from a giant's club." Her eyes lingered appreciatively on Amy, admiration clear on her face.
I winced, finally realizing why I felt so disoriented—I'd apparently taken a direct hit from one of those giant clubs myself. It was a miracle I hadn't been reduced to a bloody paste.
Slowly, I climbed back onto my feet, steadying myself. Still feeling slightly off-balance, I glanced around the battlefield once more. I could now clearly see the massive bodies of two dead giants sprawled across the broken earth, huge primitive weapons lying beside them. I swallowed nervously; their enormous corpses were far more intimidating in reality than in the game.
"I appreciate the thanks," I finally said, turning back to Aela. "But I'm still a little confused about something. Don't most Nords consider magic users weak or dishonorable?" I hesitated, trying to make sense of this new reality. "I figured you warriors would disapprove of people relying on spells instead of brute strength."
Aela gave me a slightly puzzled look, then scoffed loudly. "Of course not," she replied confidently, crossing her arms beneath her chest, which drew my eyes downward involuntarily for a brief moment. I quickly forced my gaze back up to meet hers. She seemed entirely unbothered—maybe even amused—by my wandering eyes.
"Any warrior worth their steel uses whatever tools are available," Aela explained proudly. "Magic might be rare these days, but it's still a valuable weapon. I'd gladly learn spells myself if the Empire hadn't made it nearly impossible. Using magic isn't dishonorable—it's just smart."
I nodded slowly, absorbing her words. Yet another significant difference from the Skyrim I'd known in the game. Magic here wasn't just rare—it was actively suppressed, yet respected as a powerful tool by those few who understood it. I was starting to realize just how different this version of Skyrim truly was.
Amy stepped closer to me, lowering her voice with mild annoyance. "So now we're apparently impressing Nordic warrior babes who want to learn magic?" She rolled her eyes dramatically. "This day just keeps getting weirder."
Aela heard Amy's comment and laughed warmly, approaching her with an appreciative smile. "I'd certainly be interested in learning more from you, beautiful healer. You must be among the most talented restoration mages alive."
Amy blushed furiously, awkwardly looking away. "Um… thanks, I guess?"
Delphine cleared her throat impatiently, interrupting the conversation. "We need to move. Whiterun is just ahead, and we should get there before nightfall."
Aela nodded, looking toward the distant city walls. "We're returning as well. You should visit Jorrvaskr when you arrive. The Companions would gladly welcome warriors of your caliber. And if your group doesn't have anywhere to stay tonight, you're all most welcome in our halls!"
– Vicky –
Vicky Dallon sighed dramatically as she pushed her dinner around the plate, not really tasting any of it. Honestly, focusing on her mom's cooking was a waste of time anyway—it tasted terrible, as usual. She discreetly prodded a lumpy piece of what was supposed to be chicken and frowned. There was no way in hell she was putting that in her mouth.
Across the table, her mother Carol raised an eyebrow in mild annoyance. "Victoria, what's wrong? You've barely eaten a thing."
Vicky groaned loudly and dropped her fork onto the plate with an audible clatter. "Ugh, Mom. I just can't stop thinking about Amy. It's not fair—she gets to go on some exciting adventure with a cute boy, and here I am, stuck eating your weird chicken thing."
Carol narrowed her eyes sharply, clearly unamused. "First of all, it's chicken casserole. Second, you don't know that Amy's having fun. For all we know, your sister could be scared and desperate to find a way home!"
Vicky shook her head firmly, blonde hair swaying back and forth. "Nuh uh! My sister-senses are tingling, Mom. Amy's totally having a crazy time right now—I just know it!"
Her father, Mark, barely glanced up from his own meal, clearly distracted. "That's nice, honey," he muttered absently, clearly not following the conversation at all.
Carol shot him an exasperated glare before turning back to Vicky. Her tone became more condescending. "Whatever you say, sweetie. I'm sure you'll hear all about it when Amy gets back…"
"I hope Silas kidnaps me next time," Vicky whined, ignoring the stern glare her mother gave her for that comment.
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