"Mikey, you're kinda freaking me out here," the teenage boy said. "Are you saying that you don't remember your own brother? Mikey, it's me. Xander," he said, trying to get through to him.
"You aren't my brother," Mikey insisted. "I want to know where my real brother is...And my Mom. Where are they?"
Xander looked at him. "Relax, Mikey...She's right behind me. Mom was just talking to one of the neighbors. She'll be in in a minute. But what are you doing here? I thought you were staying over with a friend? Did you just get back?"
Mikey frowned. He ran to the door and threw it open. There was a woman with her back to him, standing, talking to Mrs. Wilson, the old woman across the street.
He ran over, but as he got closer, he realized that neither the woman he'd initially thought was his mother or the other woman were who he expected.
For one, the woman who was standing in Mrs. Wilson's yard was not an old woman at all. The other woman standing on the sidewalk looked at him and saw the expression on his face. "Mikey, sweetie, what is it?"
