A Human’s Guide to Surviving Magical Mishaps by Kit Bryan
Rule 85- If you must lie, take notes—your memory is no match for the wrath of someone who catches you.

Ashton and Fin are already in position, hiding near the Logan's house. I am dying. Okay, not actually dying. I'm just out of breath as I finish my lap around the block. My hair is pulled into a loose ponytail and my clothes were close enough to workout gear to be believable. The plan is to fake an injury and ask for help, or something along those lines. I've not even finished my lap of the block and I already regret this plan. Running is just as terrible as I've always suspected it would be. No wonder I avoid it. I stumble a little and catch myself. Ugh, I need to be careful or my faked injury is going to end up being a little too real. As I planned, by the time I'm approaching the Logan's house, I'm red, sweaty and probably look like I'm dying. Perfect. I slow to a walk, and when I reach their house I slow even further to a limp. I decide my right ankle will be the injured one and I'm determined to remember that. There's nothing more suspicious than an injury that likes to change ankles. I try to take a deep breath as I limp up to the front door, but I'm too out of breath. I'm not sure if I'm actually nervous or if my heart is racing because of all the running. Well, nothing else for it but to push forward, no point wasting the short run I just went for. I reach out and knock loudly on the front door.

It takes a minute, but the door is answered by a middle aged man who could only be James Logan. He looks exhausted and worn out, but he forces a friendly smile.

"Hi there, can I help you?" He asks. Here goes nothing. I force out a bit of a grimace.

"Uhm yeah I hope so. My name is Kat, I was out jogging and I stacked it and I think I've sprained my ankle." I gesture to my right ankle then keep going before he can speak.

"I've already called someone to come pick me up, but he's still a while away and it REALLY hurts, also it's way too hot to sit around out here. I should have known better than to go out in this weather. Not my best plan." I ramble. Mr Logan looks confused.

"So you want... What exactly?" He asks.

"Oh sorry. Yeah so I hurt myself and I saw your car was in the driveway and figured someone would be home. I was wondering if you maybe had some ice. And maybe a couch I could sit on for like ten minutes while I wait for my friend to get here?" I ask with a half smile. I look up at him with my best doe eyes and wait hopefully.

"Oh... Uh... I don't know if..." He starts to refuse me but he's interrupted by another voice.

"Let her in." I glance over his shoulder to see one of his kids is talking. A teenage boy who I would guess is about fourteen, maybe fifteen? Well, that's the dad and one kid down. Just have to find the mum and the other kid and everyone will be accounted for.

Mr Logan looks... kind of confused. But he takes my arm and helps me limp inside and get settled on the couch. A woman's voice calls out from the kitchen.

"Honey? Who is it?" She asks. The words are normal enough but her voice is a little high pitched. Maybe she's a little stressed out about something? The son closes the front door and I fight the urge to cringe. Ashton is going to hate that. I honestly didn't think I would actually get invited inside. I thought that a glance through the door was the best I could hope for. Mrs Logan comes in, she's dressed perfectly like she is ready for work or something, hair and makeup done... Which is weird in itself. Who gets that well dressed and wears makeup at home? Something here is not quite right. Where's the other kid? Mrs Logan's eyebrows fly up when she sees me.

"Who is this?" she asks, sounding a little alarmed.

"A jogger. She hurt her ankle. Could you grab some ice for her? She won't be here long." Mr Logan assures her. She does not look happy but rushes to comply. She brings the ice but before she can bring it to me, her son interrupts.

"I can do it." He takes the ice from her and fusses with the little towel it's wrapped in before handing it to me. The kid hovers over me with his hands in his pockets and his mum looks weirdly upset by it. Maybe she doesn't approve of her son interacting with random strangers who wandered in from the street. The conversation stalls and I search for something to say.

"Uh... Thankyou guys so much for this. I promise I'll be out of your hair as soon as my ride pulls up." I assure them.

"It... It's no problem at all. We're glad to help." Mrs Logan assures me although I'm not convinced she means it. I look around the room and spot a basket of laundry with little girl's clothes in it.

"Oh, you have a daughter too?" I say conversationally. Both of the parents momentarily freeze up, although the kid looks as comfortable as ever.

"Y-yes we do." Mrs Logan answers.

"I'm a little jealous. I'm an only child. I always wanted a brother or sister. Although I have a couple of super nosy friends who are pretty much fulfilling that role at this point." I add. Mrs Logan smiles. "They are great kids." She agrees affectionately, looking more natural than she's been this entire time. My phone chimes and I glance at it. It's a message from Ashton.

Ashton- You have been in there too long. Come out now or I will come in after you.

Kat- I get it, chill out, I'm coming.

I put the ice aside and pretend to struggle to my feet. My right ankle is kind of numb at this point so my limping is a little more authentic than planned.

"That was my friend, he's nearly here so I'm going to go out and meet him. Thank you so much for your help. I really appreciate it." I tell them with a smile. Mrs Logan grabs the ice off the couch and walks me to the door. "It was no trouble." She assures me, suddenly in a rush to get me to leave. I'm a little disappointed that I didn't see their daughter. But their son seems so relaxed. No way he's worried about anything so she's probably fine. I turn to thank Mrs Logan one last time when something on the wall catches my eye. It's a photo of two kids. A boy and a girl. Both young and with dark hair, like their father. My eyes flick back to their son's blonde hair. I guess it could be bleached, but how many teenage boys bleach their hair? Also it looks... Very natural. I look him over one last time before I leave and something does catch my eyes. His eyes are flickering, a little bit like Ashton's do when he's in glamour. That's all it takes, one look and his entire appearance changes. His skin takes on a blueish tinge and his eyes, sclera and all, change to a bright neon yellow. I can't help but gasp in shock. The fae's eyes dart to mine and his innocent expression suddenly looks suspicious. Ah shoot.