The next morning, I woke up with red, swollen eyes.
I hadn’t wanted to cry last night, but I ended up doing it anyway.
Now I could barely open my eyes.
I glanced at the clock and saw a blurry 12:10. 12:10 in the afternoon? Why hadn’t my alarm gone off?
I sat up and stretched out my arms. Well, so much for school.
But why had Sophia let me sleep in? I know last night had been super intense. Still, letting me skip out on school…She never let me miss school.
I climbed out of bed put on a black long sleeve shirt and a pair of worn-out jeans, and pulled my hair into a ponytail. Then I went downstairs. It was too quiet for anyone to be home.
So, I was alone.
I wasn’t sure how I felt about that.
Just to make sure, I searched the living room and the kitchen. Both were empty. And Sophia and Marco’s car wasn’t in the driveway. How convenient for them. Maybe that’s why no one had gotten me up for school. Perhaps they were trying to avoid me so they wouldn’t have to answer questions about last night.
Outside, the sky was grayed over by clouds. Not a single speck of sunlight trickled through, making everything dark and gloomy. Between the darkness and the emptiness of the house, I felt unsettled.
I flipped on the light and made myself a turkey sandwich. I decided to eat in my room because it seemed better than sitting out in the open, where anything from the yellow-eyed monsters to Sophia or Alex could walk in at any moment and take me by surprise.
Sprawled out on my bed, with the music cranked, I tried to analyze what could be going on between Sophia and Alex. They had said so many strange things. Things I was convinced had to do with me. But how was I supposed to find out for sure?
Suddenly, out of nowhere, I had an epiphany. The house was empty and I needed answers. And what better way to find answers than to snoop around a little? Yes, I know, snooping is very wrong, blah, blah, blah, but so is eavesdropping, which is something I’ve done on more than one occasion.
Without any further indecisiveness, I hopped off my bed and went into Marco and Sophia’s room. I had only been in their room a couple of times—and never by myself. But every time, I had felt uncomfortable, and being in here now, all alone, was way worse. The place was really creeping me out. It felt like I had stepped into a cemetery in the late hours of the night instead of into my grandparents’ room at midday.
Although, the creepy factor might have been coming from Sophia’s perfectionist touch. Every single thing in the room was perfectly in place. Almost everything matched. The white four post bed matched the armoire and the nightstand. The pink bedspread coordinated flawlessly with the roses on the wallpaper. The bed skirt and the curtains were made of the same frilly lace. The whole room was probably about as sterile as a hospital, which had me a bit worried. If I touched something, would she be able to tell? Maybe. I guess I’d just have to be careful.
I decided to check the closet first because…well, I’m not sure why other than it seemed like just as good a spot to start with as any.
Moments later, I ran into a problem. I realized I had no clue what exactly it was I was looking for. Still, I didn’t want to just give up. So I continued to search through the massive amounts of clothes hanging up in the closet, and through the shoe boxes that were stacked on the closet floor, hoping that I would know what “it” was when I found it.
But when I finished looking through everything, I came up empty-handed.
I moved on to the armoire, then the night stand. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary though. I even checked under the bed, despite the fact that I knew I wouldn’t find anything underneath it.
Neat freaks never put things under their bed.
I let out a frustrated sigh. I should have known this would be a waste of time. I mean what had I expected to find? A secret letter explaining what was going on? Yeah, right. Like that would ever happen.
Nothing is ever that easy.
Giving up, I started to leave. But I slowed to a stop when I spotted a wooden bench lined with throw pillows. There was a small latch on the front of it.
I carefully removed the pillows from the bench, and then held my breath as I unlatched the lock. I half expected an alarm to go off or something, but the only sound was the hinges squeaking when I lifted open the lid.
Inside were books, old photos of Sophia and Marco in various places, a box of pressed flowers, some ribbons and cards. Nothing unusual, or at least that’s what I thought until I picked up the final object—a glass swan with a bright orange beak—and noticed the floor of the bench rocked slightly. Setting the swan aside, I used the palm of my hand to put pressure on the board. It popped up on one side, and....Ta-da! A secret compartment. Whatever I was looking for had to be in there.
I removed the board the rest of the way and found a single manila envelope hiding beneath it. My hands started to sweat as I picked up the envelope. This was it. This was what would give me my answers.
I unwound the piece of string that sealed the envelope shut. The very first thing I came across were the papers stating that Marco and Sophia had custody of me.
Well, so much for my kidnapping theory.
I sifted to the next item; a piece of blue-lined paper with my name and a list of dates printed on it in red ink. I recognized the flawless handwriting as Sophia’s. There were five dates total, all seeming random with no visible order. At least, from what I could tell. The oldest dated back nearly fourteen years ago, and each had a check mark next to it, except for one; February 8 of this year.
My heart stopped.
I couldn’t breathe.
The date was more significant than even my birthdate. February 8th was the precise date I had first felt the prickle that had released my emotions.
I felt sick to my stomach. Why would Sophia have this? And what did these other dates mean? None of them held any importance, at least as far as I knew.
I pressed my clammy hand to my forehead. I had a big, full-of-confusion headache.
But I needed to get it together and figure out more.
I took a deep breath and looked at the next paper, a cream colored one with a gold border. It was my Birth Certificate. My fingers trembled as I read my mother’s name listed at the bottom. Jocelyn Lucas. It was the first time I ever saw her name, yet it felt as familiar as my own. It was a beautiful name. I bet she was beautiful too. My stomach fluttered with excitement as I skimmed over to the line beside it—the one where my father’s name was listed. Or should have been listed. It was blank. My heart sank. Why would it be blank? Had my father not wanted me or something? No. That couldn’t be it. Sophia and Marco had told me that both of my parents had died in a car accident, which meant they still had to have been together—we had to have been a family, right? I wasn’t sure. I wasn’t sure of anything.
I stared down at the blank line, trying not to cry and telling myself that everything would be okay, that I would figure it out. Then I heard the downstairs door slam shut. I just about jumped out of my skin. I hurried and stuffed the papers back into the folder, except the one with the list of dates on it. On a sporadic impulse, I decided to shove that one in my pocket. I set the envelope back into the secret compartment and placed the bottom board back on top of it. I piled the rest of the stuff back inside the bench, closed the lid, and threw the pillows back on, knowing Sophia was probably going to notice how unorganized everything was and would know someone had been in her room.
But oh well. I would deal with that later. Right now I had bigger problems to deal with.
I tiptoed over to the door and cracked it open. I could hear Marco and Sophia chattering downstairs. So, holding my breath, I slipped out into the hallway and padded back to my room, gently shutting the door behind me.
I let out a huge exhale. That was close. But it was worth it. I took the list out of my pocket and stared down at the dates. What did they mean? I mean, they had to be linked to one another somehow.
Not knowi
ng what else to do, I started for my computer, figuring there was no harm in doing a quick search on the internet to see if anything came up. But before I could even get it turned on, someone knocked on my door.
My muscles seized up. Had Sophia already discovered I had been snooping in her room?
“Gemma,” Sophia said through the door. “Are you in there?”
I stared at the door, frozen and mute, with the image of her on the other side of it, all red faced and pissed off, embedded in my mind.
“Gemma!” she yelled, banging on the door again.
My adrenaline soared, and I couldn’t bring myself to move.
“Gemma, open this door up. Now!”
I shoved the list of dates back in the pocket of my jeans, reminded myself to breathe, and opened the door.
Yep. There she was, all red faced and pissed off.
“Could you move any slower?” she asked snappishly.
I shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe.”
Her temper flared. “Next time you better hurry up.”
I rolled my eyes. “Did you need anything else?”
She pushed past me into my room and gazed around like she was searching for something.
“Umm…what are you doing?” I asked, crossing my fingers she wasn’t looking for the list of dates stashed inside my pocket, which right now seemed to have taken on the weight of lead.
“Are you ready to go to your field trip?” she asked, still staring around my room.
“Wha…My astronomy fieldtrip?” God, I had completely forgotten about that.
“Yes, your astronomy fieldtrip,” she snapped impatiently. “It’s tonight, right?”
I slowly nodded. “But I think I’m going to skip out on it.” I know I had been looking forward to going to it and everything—getting the opportunity to look through a telescope was something I’ve wanted to do—but at the moment it just seemed irrelevant. What I wanted to do was to stay here and find out what the list of dates meant, before Sophia found out it was missing. Anyways, I skipped out on school today, and showing up at this fieldtrip would eliminate the old “I was sick” excuse.
“No, you’re going,” she ordered.
“Why?” I asked, eyeing her over suspiciously. “I mean, why do you even care? You’ve never cared before. So what’s with the sudden interest?”
She fidgeted nervously, smoothing out her perfectly pressed navy blue sweater. “There is no sudden interest. I just want you out of this house for awhile. That’s all.”
Ouch. That stung. “Fine. I’ll go for a drive then.”
“No, you’re going to the fieldtrip.”
“But you just said that all you cared about was me being out of the house, so what does it matter where I go just as long as I go?” I argued. “Besides, I missed school today.”
“And whose fault’s that?”
“You’re the one who didn’t wake me up when my alarm didn’t go off.”
She scowled. “You’re going. End of discussion.”
And it was, because she left.
Bursting with anger, I kicked the door, but not hard enough to do any damage. I let out a frustrated sigh. She was hiding something. And whatever I had to do, I was going to figure out what it was.
Chapter 11