Darcy grasped the envelope in one hand, carefully analyzing the handwriting on the front. Her address was printed neatly in dark blue ink, but there was no return address. The handwriting looked familiar, but she couldn’t place it. Along the borders of the envelope ran vines of ivy, leaves reaching out to the edges, an adornment she’d only seen on stationary in little boutiques she used to venture with her mom and Gram Gram as a child. She ran her thumb across the stamp in the top right corner, a gardenia. Gram Gram had grown the most beautiful gardenia bushes out in front of her old house on Kenmore street. Those bushes smelled like heaven in the summertime. Darcy had once bought an air freshener that smelled of gardenias. Her husband had come home and asked why the house smelled like an old lady. She never told him how much the comment had hurt her. Darcy couldn’t help but to wish the letter had come from Gram Gram, but there was no way this letter had come from her. Gram Gram was seven years in the grave now. Maybe it had come from her mother. She considered this the next best option, but was puzzled as to why her mom would mail her a letter. She flipped the envelope over, grabbed the letter opener off the kitchen counter, then wedged it into the slight hollow of paper, and slid it across the top. Inside was a piece of matching stationary paper and a photo. Darcy removed the photo and brought her hand to her mouth to stifle a gasp. She sat staring at it for a long time before she realized she was holding her breath. She let it out in a whoosh, set the photo down, and unfolded the letter: Darcy, I am so sorry to have to deliver the news to you like this, but there was no other way. I had to make sure I’d be gone before you found out the truth. I am not your real mother. Due to the circumstances surrounding my adoption of you, it was necessary for me to keep this a secret, but now, the secret is out, and I must be the one to tell you first. This is not something I’m proud of, but I loved you so so much, you have to believe that. I didn’t want to lose you, and it was never my intent to hurt you. I hope one day you’ll be able to forgive me and Gram Gram for what we’ve done. I love you so much, Mom Darcy sat still for a moment. She lifted the photo once more and studied it in stunned silence. There was a knock at the door, and the sudden sound startled her, causing her to drop the photo onto the floor. She began to reach down to retrieve it, but another knock followed the first, this one more frantic and impatient. Leaving the photo on the floor she hurried to open the door. Before her stood two police officers, one male, one female. The female officer flashed her an inviting smile, but the man stood on the doorstep, expressionless. “Good morning, Darcy, is it?” said the female officer. Darcy nodded almost imperceptibly. “Hello, Darcy. I’m officer James, and this is my partner, officer Hannover.” She gestured to the man standing beside her, but he did not make any attempt to smile. “How can I help you?” Darcy asked, feeling a large lump of cotton lodge in her throat as she tried to swallow. “May we come in? There’s some sensitive information we need to share with you.” Darcy nodded once more and stepped aside so the officers could enter, then she shut the door and offered them a seat in the living room. “Darcy, we have some very difficult news to share with you. We have evidence that you are most likely a missing child, and your parents have been looking for you for about 25 years. We believe your real name is Angela Beaman, and you were born to a family in Texas. You were abducted from a Walmart at the age of two, and your parents have been looking for you ever since.” The three of them sat in silence for what seemed like an eternity before the officer spoke again. “We’d like you to come down to the station and run some tests to verify if you are this missing girl, if you’re willing, of course.” Darcy looked at her, speechless. Every sound in the room was amplified, the silence was so loud. She could hear the whoosh of the air as she exhaled slowly through her nose. She blinked, then began to nod, “Yes, yes that will be fine. Let me grab my purse.” Darcy moved as if through a fog into the kitchen and picked up the photo she’d left on the floor. It was a double framed image; on the left was a young toddler in pigtails with a brilliant smile and bright blue eyes. On the right, a computer aided sketch of a much older woman with those same bright blue eyes. Across the top of the photo were the words, “Have You Seen Me?” Darcy placed the photo next to the letter written on beautiful ivy stationary, grabbed her purse, and headed to the police station.

Jerry grabbed the old couch cushion by the corner and flipped it up into the air. It turned over twice, then landed on the floor next to the others. “Dammit!” She thrust her head back, took a deep breath and closed her eyes: “Where, where, where…” She whispered in a breathy voice as she tried to materialize the location of the lipstick in her mind. She could see the black case with gold accents. The lipstick itself was a vivid red, burned into her mind, but where had she left it? Tonight was the charity gala, and her floor length crimson gown would not do without that lipstick. The whole reason she’d chosen the dress was to match the lipstick, she couldn’t leave without it. She knew this was her last chance… everything had to be perfect. She turned and plopped down onto the couch, dropping her head into her hands. Then, it came to her - the purse he’d bought her on their trip to Italy. She ran into the small bedroom and pulled down a box from the closet. Inside was a bunch of old junk, and the purse. Sure enough, inside the purse was the small black lipstick case she’d been looking for. She gripped the cylinder and squeezed, “Thank you, Jesus!” The gala was packed wall to wall with rich people hoping to show the world how generous they were. Charles was stunning up on that stage, he had always glowed in the spotlight. She couldn’t help but feel a twinge of pain in her chest as she listened to him speak about the money they’d raised for the orphanage. His face was so genuine and every smile touched his caring blue eyes, he thrived on attention. His dark hair was peppered with gray and sharply trimmed. The tuxedo he wore fit him perfectly, hugging his masculine curves in all the right places. She could feel the warmth he radiated across the crowd, they loved him. Beside him stood a slim woman in a glistening silver gown. Her warm skin contrasted beautifully with the color of the dress. Every curve was perfectly proportioned, and her smile, genuine. The two of them could have graced the cover of entertainment weekly. Jerry wondered what the woman knew. Was she aware of the deception, or had he conned her as well? That was possible. When his speech had ended, he raised his glass of champagne, then hesitated. His smile faltered for a moment, but only for a moment, as he looked out at her in the crowd. Jerry smiled as her eyes locked with his, the bright red lipstick no doubt sticking in the back of his mind. This had been his favorite shade, and she’d wanted to make sure it was the last thing he remembered. He’d always said red was her color. He regained his composure, finished raising his glass to toast, and the room quieted as the crowd sipped the expensive champagne. His eyes once again fell on her as the spotlight waned and people began to talk amongst themselves. A rumble of murmuring voices overtook the crowd, as they congratulated each other on the money they’d raised and bragged about how much they’d each contributed. Charles was no longer the center of attention, and now he focused his attention on Jerry. He turned, as if to exit the stage. Maybe to warn her that her presence wasn’t welcome? She didn’t know, and she probably never would. Before reaching the edge of the stage, his knees gave out, and he fell to the ground, gasping. His hands clutched his throat, but the gorgeous woman in the silver dress just stood there, mortified. She grasped her throat as if she were the one choking, then pointed down at him, shrieking for someone to help. The whole scene almost made Jerry chuckle, but she maintained a look of fright and confusion in order to fit in with the crowd. Everyone was so concerned about the saintly man dying on stage, so she needed to be also. As men and women rushed to his aid, her view was obstructed and she took that as her cue to leave. She could hear the fire engines roaring in the distance, and help would soon arrive - but not soon enough. She left the envelope on the table before leaving, she didn’t need to see the rest. The next morning the news headline was perfection. Things couldn’t have gone any better, and she prided herself on her perfect planning. She’d certainly spent a lot of years figuring out how she was going to settle the score. Charles had announced he was leaving the country next month, and she’d known the gala was her last chance to bring her plan to life. Growing up, Jerry hadn’t had parents, she’d lived in the orphanage, so she’d always just blamed her actions on poor parenting. None of this behavior was her fault, right? Maybe if the bastard had kept his hands to himself she wouldn’t have grown into such a bitch of a person. He deserved it, and she wasn’t sorry. Jerry drank her coffee, and began reading the juicy headlined article, “Philanthropist dies leaving behind evidence of child trafficking.”

She slid silently through the front door, inching it shut behind her. Her eyes fell on the row of hooks nailed to the wall next to the door, then she looked down at the keys in her hand. Hers was the only empty hook. There were four hooks on the plaque that read, ‘Above all, love each other deeply, because love covers over a multitude of sins.’ Each of the hooks was labeled with a name above it: a representation of belonging and acceptance into this home. Guests and visitors did not hang their keys here; these hooks were reserved for family. Katie placed her keys quietly on the table below the key holder and tiptoed, moving slowly through the hall. A floorboard creaked softly beneath her feet, and she paused her forward movement, recoiling into herself, trying to become invisible: a possum in the headlights. Her eyes squeezed shut, and she held her breath, listening for the sound of movement within the house. That’s when her ear caught the slight voice that floated through the silence of the living room, “Katherine, come here please.” Katie relaxed her taut muscles, let out the breath she’d been holding, and resigned herself to the impending punishment. It wasn’t the punishment for being late that she feared. She knew she needed to come clean with her mom, but was tonight the night for it? How would mom react to the news? She’d asked herself these questions countless times. Katie took in one more deep breath and let it out in a whoosh as she prepared to defend herself. She turned around and stepped into the living room where her mother’s shadow loomed in the faint glow of the hall nightlight. “Katherine Anne, where have you been?” Katie couldn’t see her mother’s facial expressions, but she knew they were dire. She imagined the look, taut lipped, furrowed brow and unblinking stare. It cut like a razor through the darkness. “Mom, I … Sydney and I were just talking and lost track of time,” Katie pleaded with her mother. It wasn’t a lie, she’d been raised not to lie. “Come sit,” mom gestured to an open seat across from her. Katie did as she was bid, heart racing, and she tried to maintain her calm with deep breaths. The punishment for being late wouldn’t be terrible. It’s not like she’d done this before. She considered once again whether or not to tell her mom what she and Sydney had been talking about, the topic that had caused her to return home late. Katie knew mom would eventually find out, but maybe if they could just get it out of the way, Katie wouldn't be so consumed with it all the time. Mom flipped on the table lamp, illuminating her facial features. Katie could see that her mom’s eyes were red, and her guilt made her stomach tighten as she dropped her head into her hands, “Ma, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to worry you or get you upset.” Mom’s brow furrowed and she looked solemnly at her daughter, “Katie, I just want you to be honest with me. What is going on? This isn’t like you.” Katie looked into her mother’s pained eyes, and the tears began to flow. She looked down at the floor as she spoke, “Mom, I…” the words got caught, and a lump of cotton nestled itself inside her throat. “Katie?” Her mother pleaded for an answer. Katie recalled her conversation with Sydney that evening. Sydney had been so supportive. She knew that this was something Katie needed to do. She needed to get it out. “Mom, I’m… Sydney and I, we’re... I was late because we were talking about something that’s been bothering me. I want to tell you, I just didn’t know how.” Katie’s mom replied, dropping the hurt tone in her voice, and adopting one of worry and dread in its place, “Katherine, what? What’s happened?” Katie didn’t reply. “Katie? Are you… are you pregnant?” Katie’s head jerked up, and she met eyes with her mother, “Mom! God, no!” Mom’s face muscles tightened and her eyes narrowed, “Don’t talk like that,” she scolded. Katie hung her head once again, looking at the floor as tears dripped silently down her cheeks. She wiped a hand across her brow, took in a deep breath, and let it out: “Mom, I’m gay.” Katie sucked in a deep breath and held it, squeezing her eyes shut as she awaited the reply. “My word, Katie,” her mom said, “Is that all this is about? I’ve known that for months.” Katie picked her head up and looked at her mother. Her mother’s face hadn’t softened, and the look was still one of frustration and impatience. “Katherine Anne, I don’t care if you’re gay, straight, pregnant, whatever. Don’t come into this house past curfew ever again. You had me worried sick!” Katie’s mom got out of her chair and began walking towards the bedroom. She turned back to look at her daughter, “I love you. Turn the light out before you go to bed.” Katie sat, eyes fixed on the outline of her mother as it moved slowly down the hall and out of sight. She breathed a sigh of relief feeling the fear, guilt, and shame melt away: she was free. Katie stood, walked to the front door, and placed her keys on the hook that bore her name.

Branches flew at his face smacking against his skin, one after the other. The hand he held up as a shield did little to stop their assault. His face was stinging, but he didn’t dare slow. The thickness of the night was making it difficult to see in this dense patch of woods. Mike listened for signs that he was being followed, but the only noise was the sound of his own heavy breathing and footfalls as his feet crashed against fallen leaves, twigs, and pine needles. He had to keep moving so he wouldn’t be caught out in the open. He needed to find a place to hide, and he needed a moment to think of a plan. There were eyes on him, he knew it, he could feel them. Mike thought of the eyes he’d just seen, glowing and angry. He never wanted to see those eyes again. He had to keep running. He had to get away. A sharp bolt of pain hammered his right toe and spread like lightning up into his leg. He felt his leg give way, and in a second he was on the ground. His knee hit something hard on the way down, and he stifled a groan as the pain continued further up his right leg. Ignoring the pain, he quickly rolled over, sat up, and opened his eyes wide, scanning the woods. There was no movement and no sound other than that of his own heavy breathing. Shifting his eyes through the trees, he had a brief moment of panic as he imagined the creature pouncing on him in the dark. The creature, or beast, or whatever it was that he’d seen in that cage, there was no hiding from something like that, and he knew he needed to get up and keep running. It could be anywhere in these woods, hunting him down, sniffing him out. Jumping to his feet, he was reminded of the pain in his leg and had a moment where he thought he’d fall again, but he grabbed ahold of the nearest tree and steadied himself before deciding which way to continue his retreat. That’s when he heard a branch crack from behind him, and a low rumbling growl. It had found him. He was right, there was no escape from something like that. He’d known as soon as he’d seen it in that cage. This creature had been genetically designed to hunt, and he was easy prey. Slowly, he turned around and peered out into the darkness. Emerging from behind a large tree was the creature he’d seen through the window. It had been an accident that he’d stumbled upon it. He hadn’t meant to lose the path. The creature was only a dark silhouette in the woods, but as it lumbered towards him, he recognized it. The monster was the size of a bear, down on all fours, but it did not resemble anything he’d ever seen before. Its thick, leathery skin was speckled with small patches of coarse black hair, like the skin of a mangy dog. As it got closer, it rose to its hind legs and towered over him, revealing razor sharp claws and thin muscular arms that appeared to be more human than animal. Mike stared into it’s glowing yellow eyes and felt a lump form in his throat as the terror gripped him. He felt warm liquid trickle down the leg of his pants, and realized he had wet himself. The beast’s large gaping mouth, which barely kept hold of its protruding fangs, appeared to lift at the corners in a triumphant smile. Just as Mike had resigned himself to death, a woman’s voice startled him from his terror, “Hello! I’m so sorry about this,” the voice said, “ I don’t know how you stumbled upon our lab. I really thought we had a good little hiding place out there.” At first, Mike thought the voice had come from the creature, but then a small blonde woman stepped out of the shadows from behind the beast. She wore a long white lab coat and appeared to be just as out of breath as Mike was. “You gave us a good run there,” she said, then patted the creature on the back and managed a slight chuckle, “My name is Myra.” Mike didn’t know what to say. He was frightened, but clearly this woman had control of the beast and this had all just been a misunderstanding. He breathed a sigh of relief, crossed his legs to cover the wet patch down the front of his pants, then introduced himself, “I’m Mike. I...well, I was walking in the woods. I only wanted to go for a walk and I just lost the trail. I saw the light from your… lab? ...” “No need to explain,” said the woman in the white coat, waving him off, “Everything is taken care of now.” Myra smiled, nodded at Mike, then turned to walk away. “Wait,” Mike said, “Where are you going?” “Oh, I don’t want to get my coat dirty. It’s white,” She said, glancing down at her long coat and gesturing at it with her hands. Myra wrinkled up her nose, flashed a smile, then continued walking back into the woods. Mike took a step in her direction, but in a flash of realization it occurred to him that the beast had been locked in a cage when he’d first seen it. Someone would have needed to let it loose. He turned to look at the creature. The beast pounced, swallowed Mike’s head, and tore it from his shoulders all in one motion. Blood gushed from the neck of the headless man and sprayed across the dark patch of forest, but not on Myra’s white coat.

I held my eyes shut: tight. ‘Don’t open them, don’t open them.’ I begged myself to hold them shut. It was so hard because I knew what was out there. I could see it in my mind! Huddled in the corner, I remained frozen, still, and unblinking. Breathing slowly and uniformly in, then out. I couldn’t hold my breath. I had to keep on breathing. I knew I could fight it. I’d done it before. Suddenly it was becoming harder and harder to keep my eyes shut. I wanted to open them. I wanted to scream. I wanted to cry. I wanted to run. But run where? There was nowhere to go. I focused on my breathing: in, and then out. Slowly and rhythmically. I had to keep calm. I brought my hands up to cover my eyes. ‘Keep. them. Closed.’ I willed myself, as I shrunk deeper and deeper into my corner. That's when I started to feel it: the weight. It was a heavy, dark cloud. It moved in slowly. It loomed. It pushed onto my chest. It squeezed the air from my lungs. ‘No!’ I thought. I wouldn’t let it take over. I inhaled, slowly, deeply, pushing the heavy weight from my chest. It couldn’t have me. I would fight it, and I knew how. I felt it creeping closer. It wanted me. It wanted to overtake me, and I wanted to give in. It was so hard fighting it. Could I fight it? Would I win? I didn’t think so. There was no way. I was weak. I was empty. I was broken. There was no help. No one would come. No one would understand. Many times I had considered giving in, just letting it have me. I considered this again. I considered it now. “No!” I shouted aloud, and buried my head into my knees, legs pressed up against my chest. I could fight it. I could do it. But, it was out there. I could feel it creeping in and lurking, closer and closer. It would never let me go. There was no way to beat it. I could fight it today, but tomorrow... Tomorrow it would return. Then, who would be here to help? No one. There was no one who could help me. Only I could defeat this monster. I released my legs from their fetal position, placed my hands upon the floor, pressed my weight into an upward motion, and got to my feet. Slowly, opening my eyes, I stood before it, slowly letting out a deep breath. I was not afraid… But yes. Yes I was. I couldn’t do it. I was broken. I was fat. I was ugly. I was unwanted. I was empty. I was alone. I stood there as it consumed me, as my mind betrayed me, and the depression swallowed me. My own shadow: we were stitched together, and from my shadow, there was no escape. It swallowed me whole, and I gave in: broken, alone, and empty. My own thoughts. My own feelings. I was no match for a betrayal of my own mind. How can you fight if your mind isn’t even on your side?

Pregnant drops of rain plopped onto the sliding door, bursting one by one against the glass. Marcy was curled up in her recliner with Rufus, reading a new book, a glass of wine nestled close by. There was nothing more relaxing than a summer storm. Her peace was momentarily interrupted by an alert from her phone on the table beside her. Glancing at the screen she read, ‘tornado warning for the Southeastern Virginia area until 10:00pm.’ “What shall we do, Rufus? Hole up in the tub, or stay put?” Rufus lifted his head lazily, gave her a glassy eyed look, then plopped his head back down onto his furry paws and closed his eyes. “Sounds fine to me.” She said as she rubbed the top of his head. Marcy returned her eyes to the paperback only seconds before the storm erupted into her living room. There was a loud crash as the sliding glass door shattered into the room. Rufus bolted from her side, and then all went black. … Marcy’s eyes slowly opened and began to focus on the scene around her. The sun peered through the glassless window around the edges of the tree that had taken it. Her living room, now furnished with tree limbs, was soaking wet and shrouded in leaves. She attempted to get out of the chair, and was halted by the branch that had, she assumed, knocked her out when it burst into the room. The thick branch rested securely on her head. She had to wiggle and squirm her way beneath it to release herself from the makeshift prison between the tree branch and recliner. Despite the location of the branch, she didn’t seem to be injured, and had no noticeable pain. Suddenly, she realized what was missing. “Rufus!” she shouted as she ran room to room looking for her dog. “Rufus!” - no answer. Frantically she rummaged through the downed tree in the living room, but there was no sign of her companion. After a thorough search of the house, Marcy went out to check the yard - no sign of Rufus. She called for him once again, cupping her hands around her mouth. Nothing. Maybe he had become frightened and ran to Tom’s house? Tom Wright lived next door, and Rufus had always trusted him. Surely that’s where he had gone. As she stepped up to Tom’s porch, she noticed he had also lost some trees along the front of the house. She knocked, and thought it odd that his two terriers didn’t come running to the door. Usually Daisy and Lola met her at the door with muffled yelps and clawing, but today, silence. She peered through the small glass panel alongside the front door, and all was still: no movement within the house. She tried the doorbell and shouted out, “Tom! Daisy! Lola! Anyone home?” - nothing. Marcy glanced back at the quiet street front and felt a chill. No birds chirped, no dogs barked, no neighbors examined storm damage. The street had taken quite a few downed trees: some in yards, some across roadways, and even some through roofs and vehicles, but no neighbors in the cul de sac to comfort one another, assess the damage, or begin the clean up. Marcy’s stomach tightened. She called out, banging on each door in the cul de sac - nothing. … Tom slumped down onto the curb and dropped his head into his hands. The ambulance lights flashing overhead. One of the paramedics stopped to cover him with a blanket as an officer approached. “Hello, Mr. Wright. I am very sorry that you had to witness this, and I know you’re probably not feeling well. Is this an ok time to ask a few questions, or would you like me to come back later?” “I’m ok.” Tom said. “Well, I was told you were the one to find the body, is that correct? Can you tell me how you happened to discover her?” “Yes, ma’am. It was very early this morning. The storm had knocked out a few trees, and there was that tornado warning, so I didn’t dare leave the house last night. This morning though, very early, it was about 6 am I believe, I heard scratching at the front door. My girls, Daisy and Lola, they began barking like something was out there. I dressed quickly and went to the door.” Tom grabbed a tissue from his right breast pocket and blew the congestion that had been accumulating from his distressed crying. “Well, when I opened the door, it... it was Rufus. He was soaking wet. I think he had been out there on the porch all night! I hadn’t heard him because of the storm, you see? I didn’t mean to leave him out there like that!” The officer nodded and responded, “Yes, of course not.” Tom continued, “Well, I knew immediately something must be wrong if Rufus was out there alone. I ran right over to Marcy’s house, and there was no answer when I knocked. I went around back and saw the tree had fallen through the back of the house. I had to squeeze in where the tree had busted out the glass. She always kept the doors and windows locked, you know? A woman living alone. Anyway, that’s when I saw her. She was in the, in the... “ Tears fell from Tom’s face, and he brought up the tissue once more to clear his nasal cavity. “I just knew right away. I knew that tree had to have… you know? The tree branch was a big one, and it just caved in her... I called 911. I didn’t know what to do. I just keep seeing her head and the blood, oh! The blood!” The officer gave him a sympathetic look, “If it is any comfort, we do believe that she died on impact. I don’t think this woman felt any pain.”

“Look, officer, I don’t know what else to tell you. I’ve literally been here all night and I’ve told the story a dozen times. Shouldn't someone be out looking for this guy? Or for the woman? The, the woman from the metro station.” I flung my hands up in a gesture of frustration and confusion, then plopped my elbows on the table and buried my head in my hands. “Yes, ma’am. I understand that you’re frustrated, but we’re just trying to get some things straightened out here. I have your story, the story from the host at the restaurant, and the story from this camera footage. I just can’t fit these pieces together. Something here isn’t right.” “I know, I know.. ” I picked my head up, tears welling up again, and held back a sob. “Do you think I’m lying?” “I didn’t say that, I…” Officer James bowed his head and ran his hands through his hair. “I want to share some of the stuff we have from the restaurant host and the camera footage. Maybe see if we can make anything of this together.” He looked up at me pleadingly, and I realized that he was just trying to help. “I was on the metro, about 7pm. I got off at the Cobalt street exit and there was this grimey old lady at the foot of the stairs.” I let out a long sigh. “I felt bad for her, so I handed her some money…” “How much was it you said?” Officer James scribbled something in his notebook while he asked this question. “I gave her a ten. It was all I had in my purse. Then, she handed me the postcard and I shoved it into my purse. I didn’t look at it right away because I figured it was just one of those Jesus cards, ya know?” Officer James finished writing and gave me a nod to continue. “Ok, so then, she gave me this creepy smile and told me to look for a man with a blue flower or whatever.” “Is that what she said? Exactly?” “Um.” I dropped my head and shut my eyes, trying to remember her exact words, “She said to watch out. Watch out for the man with the blue pocket flower.” I picked my head up and looked at the cop. The look on his face was one of confusion and disbelief. I became defensive: “Aren’t there cameras or anything down in the metro station? You could verify that woman was there, couldn’t you? You could find her.” “Unfortunately,” Officer James began, “The camera angle down there cuts off right where you say the woman was sitting. We can see you reach into your purse and lean forward out of the camera’s eye, but we can’t see anything other than that.” I let out an exasperated sigh and continued, “Well, she was there, and that’s where that card came from.” I took a sip of water and continued: “After that, I hiked up the steps in these damn heels, and I started walking towards Seascapes. The restaurant is about three blocks from that metro exit, and I was already running late, so I started walking faster. That’s when the phone went off.” Officer James nodded, “Ok, and let me just make sure this is right. This, you say, was the last text message you got from Charlie. Right?” I nodded. “Ok, go on.” Officer James permitted. “In the text, she said that she had already been seated. The first table on the right, she said.” Officer James nodded. “Yes. We questioned the host about the seating arrangement. He claims she had not yet been seated, and that she left before he was able to seat her. We’re beginning to wonder if she was really the one who sent that message.” I felt the tears begin to well up in my eyes once more, and fought them back. “So anyway, after I read the message, I tossed the phone back into my purse and finished walking to the restaurant. When I got there I didn’t notice her car out front, and you know they only have the small lot out front, so I thought that was odd, but I wasn’t really worried because it seemed irrelevant at the time.” “Right.” He turned his gaze back to the notepad, “And then you went to speak with the host, correct?” “Yes. I asked the host where Charlie had been seated. He gave me this strange look, and he told me she left! He said she had just walked out with some guy. And listen, I wasn’t even that late. I was really only about ten minutes late, but I get anxious sometimes because I don’t like being late, you know? She wouldn’t have left me for just ten minutes!” I could feel my face starting to flush. Officer James pulled out the chair across from me and sat down. “Ok, so this is where it gets a little odd. We have video surveillance from the front of the restaurant. We have her coming out of the restaurant, alone. We have interviewed this host multiple times, and his story never changes. The host claims to have seen her walk out of the restaurant with a man. He swears by it, but can’t answer why there’s no record of the man on surveillance.” I sighed, “Well, at least I’m not the only one seeing crazy things here.” “Like I said, no one thinks either of you are lying. We’re just trying to figure out what happened here.” Officer James flipped through his notebook and looked back up at me. “The other thing the host swears by, is the physical description of the man Charlie left with. He swears this man wore a gray suit and blue tie. In the pocket of the suit, he claims to have seen a blue iris. He won’t flinch on that detail. Thought it was odd for a man to be wearing a pocket flower to such a casual restaurant.” My stomach turned and I thought I was going to be sick. “A blue flower...” I whispered, unbelievingly. I looked back up at the cop, “And you can’t find this woman? The one who warned me? Isn’t it odd that she warned me about a man with a blue flower? How would the host have made up that detail?” “Are you sure you didn’t mention your encounter with the woman to the host? Maybe he heard something you said and thought he saw something that wasn’t really there.” “No. I swear. I didn’t talk to the host other than to ask where Charlie was seated. I even went back outside before I found that card in my purse again. After that I didn’t see the host at all.” “Alright then, continue. What happened after you spoke to the host?” “Well, I looked around the restaurant a bit to make sure I didn’t see her. I didn’t really believe him at first, ya know?” Officer James nodded reassuringly and I continued. “So then I went back outside, remembering how I hadn’t seen her car in the lot. I double checked the lot, and no car.” “So then you tried to call her?” “Yes. Well, I went into my purse first to find my phone. So I was rifling around my purse and out drops that postcard the lady gave me. The lady from the metro station” “I don’t know if the card is really important.” Officer James rubbed his forehead and read through the notes on his notepad. “What? Of course it is!” I shouted, exasperated. These people didn’t believe me, but I knew that card was the key to saving Charlie. “Ok, well, just skip the card for now; we will come back to it. Tell me what happened when you called.” That’s when I began to realize that these people couldn’t help. Something awful had happened to Charlie, and the police weren’t going to be able to help her. “I called, and then I heard a ringing in the bushes. The phone had been tossed into the bushes, and I could hear it ringing when I called her.” At this point, I finally broke into tears. I couldn’t hold them back any longer. The cop handed me some tissues before encouraging me to go on. “We have the phone, and they are looking for prints now, but it may take a while to get anything back.” “It doesn’t matter!” I shouted. “Don’t you see that? The surveillance camera, the postcard, there won’t be any prints! Something is going on here and you’re not paying attention to the real evidence!” At that moment, the radio the cop wore on his hip made a cracking static sound, and a voice came through the other end. “James, this is Robertson, are you there?” James held up a finger, gesturing me to wait a moment, and replied to the radio call: “This is James, go ahead Robertson.” “We’ve found the car. Silver honda civic. It’s out here parked at the metro station: Cobalt exit.” “And the woman?” “No woman, chief. Just the car. We have a purse and what appears to be a blue flower of some sort. It’s taped to the steering wheel. Dusting the car for prints now.” The crackling static sound repeated, and James lifted the radio to reply, “10-4.” I felt my stomach prepare to let go and leaned over the trash can next to the detective’s desk. My head pounded, and my stomach heaved, but I have to pull myself together. We would never find her if I couldn’t get it together. Officer James stood up and pushed in the chair, “Let me grab you some water. Will you be ok in here by yourself for a minute?” He asked sympathetically. I lifted my head from the trash for a moment and nodded, wiping spittle from the corners of my mouth with the tissue he had offered earlier. Officer James left and I grabbed my purse from the chair next to me. Rifling through the purse I spotted the postcard and pulled it out to double check my sanity. The postcard was old, but never mailed or addressed. The address side was blank and beginning to turn yellow with age. I flipped the card over to reveal the photo. The scenery was the same as it had been before: The beach, empty and serene; the sky, brilliant shades of red and orange; and the dock, darkened by shadows from the setting sun. The only difference, that she knew she’d find, was the figure peering out from the dock. That figure hadn’t been there when officer James looked at the post card, but it was there again now. The face was forlorn and disoriented. I stared at the face for a long moment. Was it really there? Was I imagining this whole thing? Surely I was losing my mind. I lifted the postcard up to my face and took a closer look at that face, at Charlie’s face. She was lost. She was scared. And I couldn’t help her. “I’m so sorry, Charlie. I’m trying.” I whispered to the photo as I began to sob once more. They’ll never believe me.

Trigger Warning: Infant Loss Her eyes opened slowly, unfocused and groggy. She couldn't remember where she was or how she’d gotten here. The room slowly came into focus as she climbed out of her tunnel of darkness. A hazy, early morning light filtered in through the window: not her bedroom window. She looked across her body to a small table elbowed over the foot of her bed. Atop the table was a covered dish, presumably her breakfast. Next to the dish stood a small, slim vase. The vase held a rose. … Janie had long awaited this day. She bustled with excitement as she grabbed the duffel sitting next to the door. She had packed this bag a month ago in anticipation of this day. The circumstances weren’t as she had originally planned them. Steve was in New York City on a business trip, and he wouldn't be home until tomorrow. That was ok; she could manage this on her own. She headed to the hospital and arrived only ten minutes later. Duffel in hand, she shuffled quickly up to labor and delivery. After checking in, she was ushered to a room, changed into a hospital gown, and climbed into the bed. A young woman came through the door: green scrubs, gloved hands, and an inviting smile. “Hello Mrs. Winchester! Are we ready to meet this little lady?” The nurse typed something into her computer, then rifled through the small drawers in the rolling computer cart. Janie beamed, “Yes ma’am! I have waited too long already. She was due last week!” The nurse smiled and set up Janie’s IV. She went back to her rolling cart and grabbed some straps, then moved in closer to the bed. “Go ahead and lay back. I just need to get you and baby set up here.” Janie laid back as the nurse strapped two bands around her belly: one pink and one blue. “What do these things do?” She asked. “These are for fetal monitoring. One of them monitors your contractions, and one monitors the baby’s heartbeat.” The nurse squirted some warm jelly on Janie’s abdomen and placed a sensor on it. She moved the sensor around a few times, then wiped it off and tried again. The smile she wore slowly shifted to a look of confusion. “Just a second,” the nurse flashed a smile at Janie. “I’ll be right back.” Janie felt a knot start to form in her already tightening abdomen. The nurse left the room, and returned a minute later with another nurse. They were talking softly, and Janie couldn’t make out what they were saying. “Hello Mrs. Winchester.” The second nurse also flashed a reassuring smile. “My name is Jolene, and I’m here to help bring this little one into the world today.” She pulled a doppler from her pocket; Janie recognized this from her many prenatal visits. The second nurse repeated the actions of the first, only using the doppler instead of the small monitor attached to the strap. Janie raised her head to watch, and started to feel a sickness in the pit of her stomach. Where was the heartbeat? Something wasn’t right. She knew what was supposed to happen here, and it had never taken her doctor this long to find a heartbeat. She looked at the face of the first nurse, then the second, searching for a sign of comfort: no such sign was found. “Is everything okay?” Her face twisted in a look of worry now. The second nurse looked at her colleague, “Get the doctor and the anesthesiologist. Quickly.” She turned back to Janie. “Mrs. Winchester, I just need you to lie back. We are going to administer something into your IV that will help you relax, ok?” The nurse gently placed a hand on Janie’s shoulder. She grabbed a vial from her bin, unpackaged it, and hooked it up to Janie’s IV. This is where Janie began to lose time. Everything moved so quickly, and Janie couldn’t grasp the reality of what was happening. Her eyes began to fill with tears of worry, and her head was a foggy cloud. … The rose atop the bedside table glistened in the morning light. She remembered now, and wished she hadn’t emerged from the darkness. She looked at the cell phone beside her leg: 7am, and 3 missed calls. It was the coroner’s office again. They had more questions, and she had no more strength to answer. Yesterday they had called about Steve. He had begun the journey south from New York upon hearing that Janie was in labor; he hadn’t made it. He wasn’t used to driving in the snow, and the car spun out. He wasn’t ever going to make it back. A nurse knocked on the door and peered into the room. “Good morning Mrs. Winchester. I have your valum and some orange juice.” She slipped into the room, an empathetic smile on her face. The nurse took her vitals, then gave Janie the medication. Janie took the pills, then shifted her gaze back to the rose. Stopping at the door, the nurse turned her eyes back to the lifeless woman in the hospital bed: “The nursery attendant will be down soon with her death certificate. I am so sorry Mrs. Winchester. Please call if there is anything else you need today.” The nurse quietly shut the door; Janie’s gaze never left the rose.

Officer Hannover pulled up right behind the white Jeep and clicked off his flashing lights, as well as the headlights on the cruiser. The only light now was emanating from the Jeep’s front end. He would handle that in a moment. He’d done this dozens of times. Grabbing the large mag light from the passenger side of the car he pulled the door latch and got out. As Hannover walked up to the Jeep he noticed the driver, a young woman, rifling through her glove box with a small flashlight in hand. His eyes looked up and down the long stretch of road: no other traffic. Tap tap, he rapped on the driver’s side window and then clicked the flashlight on to illuminate the inside of the vehicle. He took a quick scan of the vehicle: no weapons that he could see. He saw her groping for the window controls and the window slid down just a tiny bit, “Hello officer! I’m sorry, but I can’t see you. I can’t see anything; the light is kind of in my eyes and I just dropped my flashlight.” Hanover smiled, “Oh my. I’m so sorry about that ma’am.” He lowered the glow of the light. “Sometimes I forget how bright these flashlights are. I didn’t mean to blind you.” He gestured at the cracked window, “Can you roll the window down a bit more for me? I will need to see your license and registration please.” He maintained the same pleasant smile. “No problem! I was just looking for it in the glove box when you came up and I was startled. I dropped my flashlight on the floor. Do you mind if I reach down to pick it up?” She pointed at the floorboard of the vehicle. Hannover took a step back and thought for a moment. “I can shine my flashlight in that direction for you. I’d prefer if you’d keep your hands where I can see them. I’m sure you’re a nice enough young lady, but it’s mighty dark out here and I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t a bit nervous.” He let out a tense chuckle. Her face relaxed and her lips formed into a reassured smile. “Yes, sir. No problem at all.” She reached forward into the glovebox and found the registration immediately. “Here is the registration. Let me just grab my license from my wallet.” She said this as she rolled the window the remainder of the way down and handed him the paperwork. “Thank you. Do you mind shutting off the engine and those headlights please, ma’am. They distract the other drivers.” After he said this he saw her face suddenly grow confused. That was ok. He had her, and she would do it. He projected that winning smile at her and mentally willed her to relax. She didn’t move. “Ma’am?” he repeated. “I’m sorry. Yes, yes I can do that.” She timidly reached forward and hit the button to shut off the engine, then switched off the headlights. When she turned her gaze back to the passenger seat and reached for the wallet, he quickly slid his hand into the car and disengaged the door locks. Within an instant, his hand moved from the door lock to her wrist, and pulled her arm towards the window. She let out a startled cry. Hannover’s grip tightened on her arm, then there was a clunk as he dropped the flashlight on the ground outside the car and used that hand to pull the car door open. That’s when everything went wrong. There was a sudden burning in his eyes, around his eyes, all over his face. Hannover let out one quick cry of surprise and began to choke; he couldn’t breathe. He released his grip on her arm, pulling his hands up to wipe the stinging substance from his face. He heard the door slam shut, and the car engine fire. ‘Shit!’ he thought, and he reached out blindly to grab a hold of her, feeling delicate strands of hair beneath his fingers. He grabbed the hair quickly, but he immediately knew it wouldn’t be enough to hold her. At that moment, he felt the car window thud against his outstretched arm, but he was determined not to release his grip. Her hair gave way, and the moving vehicle spun him to the ground. Still gripping the small clump of hair in one hand, he sat there, unable to see and barely able to breathe. In the next second he heard a loud crunch, a crack, and then pop. Those were the unmistakable sounds of a collision. He attempted to open his eyes and squinted through the pain. His vision was still fuzzy, but he could make out the scene. She had managed to get the headlights back on, but not in enough time to see what was in front of her vehicle. She had run that Jeep head on into a large tree. He couldn’t see much else, but it didn’t look good, well, not for her anyway. Picking himself up off the ground, he grabbed his flashlight and quickly made his way back to his vehicle. Hannover threw open the passenger door and groped around until he found the bottle of water he had left on the passenger seat. He rinsed his face and eyes until the stinging began to subside. After cleaning up, and checking the road once more to ensure there were no oncoming vehicles, he returned to the Jeep. The woman was laying crumpled on the ground next to the vehicle. Her head was crushed and bloody; she must have hit the tree head on when she was ejected from the vehicle. The airbags had deployed, but not in time. He breathed a sigh of relief and headed back to his vehicle to phone in the accident. “There’s a monster on route 460!” he shouted, as he chuckled to himself.