He was just on his way to his bedroom, when he passed the library. Stopping as a shadow past his periphial vision, Vaughn peered back into the room. Pacing among the front bookshelves was his dad, Victor Pearson. As Vaughn watched, Victor would occasionally pause beside a book and look at its particular cover. Then with a bored air, he continued his "examination" of the library. Vaughn only watched his father for a couple seconds.

Entering the room, he made his prescence known by exclaiming, "Dad?"

Victor turned at the sound of his name. He saw his son standing at the library entrance. The blond haired boy had a look of suprise and shock.

"Hello, Vaughn," Victor replied in a cool, business-like tone.

"Dad, what are you doing here?" Vaughn demanded, split between suspicion, curiosity, and fear that everything everyone said about his dad was true.

"The storm, Vaughn," Victor replied, indicating towards the window, "The roads have been blocked and Amanda was kind enough to give me a place to stay. I would have thought it would be obvious to you."

Vaughn glance out the window. Even in the dimming twilight, the flurry of flakes could still be seen. He internally kicked himself for not realizing that was the cause of his father's prolonged stay.

"Of course," Vaughn replied, trying to cover his feeling of stupidity, "I figured that's why you were here. After all, what other reason would you stay in a place like this?"

He gave his father a hopeful, yet question look. Pearson returned the favor by gazing analytically at his son.

"You should go to bed, Vaughn," he finally said, "A boy with your schedule needs all the rest he can get."

"Tommorrow's a Saturday," Vaughn began to protest, "I can sleep i..." A look from Victor silenced him, " I mean, goodnight, dad."

"Goodnight, son," Victor replied dismissively. He turned his attention back to the bookshelf. Vaughn waited a moment. He had hoped his father would say something mor. When Victor didn't turn around, Vaughn turned and left. He was barely around the corner when he heard a pair of loud footsteps. Peaking around the corner, he saw nothing but empty hallway.

Groaning, Josie rubbed her forehead, trying to make sense of the garbled mess. Soon, though, even the most clear image faded to nothing. Awake and sore, Josie walked to her and Corrin's closet and pulled out some clothes. A few minutes later she walked into the hallway and down the stairs. Suprisingly, the aroma coming from the lunch room was suprisingly good. Josie's stomach rumbled in protest, as she instead turned towards Z's classroom. She wanted apologize for nearly getting him in trouble, again.

Opening the door, Josie expected to find her teacher grading papers or doing whatever else he did when he wasn't teaching and wasn't helping her and the others with their "problem". Instead the room was empty. Josie walked in, assuming Z would be back in a few minutes. Suddenly, a female with long black hair stood up from behind a lab table. Josie jumped back in suprise by the sudden movement. It didn't help that the woman was wearing a large pair of heat-seeking goggles. The woman turned her head toward the noise made when Josie Josie, she pushed the goggles up above her head. Her steel-grey eyes peered curiously into Josie's brown ones. She was young, no older the thirty, slender, and tall.

"Josie?" she said, her voice soft and firm, "What are you doing here? The club doesn't meet for another hour or so. Haven't you had breakfast yet?"

"Uh, no," Josie replied, the initial shock being replace by curiousity, "And who are you?"

The woman gave Josie a perplexed look.

"Josie, are you feeling alright?" she asked, concerned. She pulled the goggles off her head and put them on the table. Then she walked toward's Josie.

"Yeah," Josie replied, " How do you know my name?"

The woman's face went from perplexed to concerned.

"Josie, It's me," she said, "Professor Bree. Your science teacher!"

"What!" Josie exclaimed!