It was 1:08 & you woke up feeling restless. Sort of like a sugar high but not; maybe even the wakeful edge of a fever. It felt like you had the sun stitched up inside you, skin hot to the touch. You tried to fall asleep again, but after twelve minutes & twenty seconds of thinking about last evening & their expressions & Grandma Jane, you gave up & slid out from under the blankets to sneak through the house to the door. You put on your coat (it tended to be cold in late November) & carefully put on your shoes & tied them (shoes made everything better) & unlocked the back door (really side, but whatever) & went & stood on the porch. You were waiting for something, but you didn't know what; you had dreamt this, but standing on the porch bathed in night light was as far as you got, & you needed to find out what would happen next. You waited. It was 1:26, & you thought you saw a haze wafting up the street—but occasional haze was normal. It was the wildfires in Oregon. Sometimes in the Bakers' parking lot everything was red.

The man in the long red coat walked down the sidewalk. It was a little too late to walk down the sidewalk without being suspicious, but the man had a job to do. Besides, he was invisible.

It was 1:26, & Carey found you. He was bad at sleeping & would wake at the slightest disturbance (i.e. twin leaving the room). It was a tad annoying; whenever you snuck out to do something or go somewhere when you should have been sleeping, you returned to find a disgruntled Carey. The bribes you had to offer to keep him mum...

The man in the long red coat was invisible, which made things much easier for him.

"You should come in," he advised, nibbling at his fingernails like they were a delicacy instead of fingernails. You had no idea why he bothered suggesting such a silly idea. The night was your kingdom, its monsters your subjects; you could sleep in the day. You needed sleep, but you didn't want it, & if you were well-rested you had no reason to be unreasonable, & you'd need to be unreasonable & you'd need to be dead-tired to survive the days ahead. Why'd you think it would be a good idea to tell them? Why couldn't you have waited until they had no control over you?

The man in the long red coat didn't care about what he was going to do to countless people. He had his reasons.

It was 1:29, & Carey wanted to tell you something, but you got zapped.

The man in the long red coat watched as the explosion ruffled his hair & the siblings vanished from the universe.

I know it's a pitiful description, but there isn't a good one. It was an infinitesimally small point of greenish light that grew and grew but seemed to pause as it reached you. Then you blacked out.

It's done, Orion.