I was thrilled at the thought of finally meeting my long-lost uncle. If Mom had known he was alive, she would have risked everything to contact him—I believe she would, out of fear that they were all gone. It weighed on me that she wasn't here to see any of this. I decided I needed to call Andy and ask if he'd go with me. He seemed surprised when he answered the phone.
"Hi Roxy, are you ok?" He asks with a worry-laced voice.
"Yeah, everything's fine. I talked to Uncle Donovan, and he's willing to meet me in Vadolia, where he lives, on Saturday. Zeke has to help his dad with the business that day, and I was wondering if you could make the trip with me. I promised him I wouldn't go alone. Can you come?" I asked hopefully.
"We don't have any plans. I can go with you, I'm sure Sharon won't mind," was his quick response. His voice sounded both happy and surprised, I asked. His agreeing to go with me was a relief, and it took one worry off my shoulders. Zeke wouldn't have to worry about my safety, and Andy could help me navigate the conversation with my uncle since they already know each other. We talked a little longer and made a plan for Saturday. I decided to read more of my mom's journal. Maybe there are more clues in there. Grabbing the book, I open it up to the last entry.
Dear Diary
Things in my house keep getting weirder and weirder. Remember the bookbags Donovan and I found in Dad's office? Well, he gave one to each of us kids and told us they were for emergencies only and not to look in them until we had to. Didn't he know you never tell someone not to do something; it just makes them defy you. Inside my bag were money and important documents. The weird thing is the name on all of this was Amber Sleighton, not Catalano. Why would he change my name? I'm really starting to get scared.
On top of that, I woke up to people yelling at each other last night. Sneaking into the hall and looking over the banister at the entryway, I saw Dad and Sheriff Dawson, Andy's Dad, yelling at each other. Mom was trying to quiet them down, worried they would wake us kids up. Donovan crept out of his room, joined me, and watched the scene unfold. At one point, we thought there was going to be a fist fight. Finally, my mom got the sheriff to leave after pleading with him to go. He left unwillingly and told my parents he would be back to settle this matter once and for all. I looked over to Donovan to see if he knew what they were talking about. He just shrugged his shoulders. As soon as the sheriff left, we quietly went back to our rooms. What was going on? Does Andy know about any of this? I need to ask him.
On a happier note, I am four and a half months pregnant. The baby is healthy, and I'm so glad. Excited even. No one can tell yet. I have a small baby bump, but it's not noticeable unless I wear tighter clothing. My parents are still not on board with me keeping the baby. It's ok, though —I have some time to convince them. In the end, it doesn't matter what they want; I'm eighteen and can make my own decisions. I can't wait to see her tiny face, count her fingers and toes.
Oh my goodness, something's wrong. I have to go. I hear yelling again.
There was nothing else written. Usually, she finished with a thank-you-for-listening diary entry, but not this time; it seemed she intended to return and write more, but she never did. Could this entry be from the night the family vanished? My poor mom was fleeing not just for her life but for mine as well. She must have been so frightened all alone at such a young age. Although this did explain where our last name came from, it was on the documents her dad put in her bag.
The rest of the week went agonizingly slow. Zeke listened to me blabber on about the journal entry and meeting my uncle. If he was sick of me talking, he never voiced it. He would smile and stroke my hair as I spoke. He was so supportive of me as I figured out what happened to my mom's family, as long as I took the necessary precautions for my safety.
As we fell asleep that night, another dream took over. The woman in the blue dress was back. She smiled at me, a warm, comforting smile. Her smile was infectious, and I couldn't help smiling back as she approached me. Trailing behind her is another dark, shadowy figure, a little taller than her. As she gets closer, the shadowy figure takes shape into my mom. They are holding hands and seem happy to be together. Stopping in front of me, Mom looks over to me lovingly. Oh, how I miss her. This moment both makes my heart smile and ache.
"Momma, I miss you," my voice choking on a sob.
"I miss you, too, sweet girl. This is your grandma, Thalia. I'm sorry I couldn't introduce you until now," Mom says as tears stream down her face.
"Grandma," I choke out between sobs. "What happened to you all. I found Uncle Donovan and my dad. Dad and I are going to meet him on Saturday."
"Honey, it's too dangerous for you to keep investigating. Please stop." Grandma Thalia says.
"I can't, I'm too close to figuring out what happened," I stated. No way would I give up now when I'm so close to the truth.
"We're glad you found Donovan," my mom says happily, "but we are worried about your safety." Grandma and Mom then change the subject, urgently begging me to stop investigating the family's disappearance and warning that it is too dangerous. You can sense the desperation and the overwhelming fear in their voice. I shook my head in disagreement with them. I'm not going to let fear deter me from the truth. As we talk, I hear someone's voice in the distance calling to me, pulling me towards the sound. Mom and Grandma start to fade right in front of my eyes.
I woke up to see and feel Zeke shaking me gently, calling my name. I must have woken him up during my dream. He said my face was panic-stricken, with tears rolling down it. My body was withering side to side as I kept saying, "No, I can't stop. I'm sorry." He quickly woke me and demanded to know what was wrong. He thought it was another nightmare. He pulled me into his arms and rubbed my back in reassurance. I tell him every detail of the dream —how real it felt —leaving nothing out. As he listens, his presence keeps me grounded. After a while, we both drift back to sleep, not realizing it. One minute, we were talking; the next, we were both softly snoring.
The next morning, pushing the dream to the back of my head, I got ready for the trip to Vandolia. I made sure to bring the diary, the paperwork, and a photo album filled with pictures of Mom and me. Lugging my bag to the front door, I quickly make a pot of coffee while waiting for Andy. The rich aroma of the coffee filled the room as it brewed, but an eerie silence soon settled. I reached for a cup from the cabinet, and all the cabinet doors suddenly opened and slammed shut with a deafening noise. I jumped back in fear. Then, the cabinets began banging open and closed on their own, creating a relentless, haunting rhythm that sent chills all over my body.
"Please stop," I shouted. "This won't prevent me from leaving today or stop me from finding the truth," I stated. As soon as I spoke, the banging ceased, and the room fell into an unsettling silence. The room was eerily quiet; the tension in the air was palpable. My eyes scanned the room cautiously to see if the activity was done. Just as I reached for one of the cabinets again, a loud banging on the front door made me jump and scream. I could hear Andy yelling, asking if I was ok. Quickly, I ran and let him in before he tried to break down my door.
"Sorry, I'm fine," I say, opening the door and letting him in. The look of relief on his face was one I could not copy. My nerves were still on edge from this recent incident.
"Why were you screaming?" He asks with concern.
"All of the cabinet doors were banging on their own. It freaked me out." He looked skeptically at me.
"Roxanne, what are you talking about?" He asked, confused.
"Since we moved in here. Wait, no, before we moved in here, strange things happened. Weird dreams, doors slamming, disembodied screams, cold winds, and footsteps. Trust me, I know it sounds crazy, but it's all true," I explained quickly.
"Ok, ok, I believe you," he replied. His tone suggested he was humoring me, not that he actually believed. Not wanting to continue the conversation, I grabbed my bag and put on my shoes, then we headed out the door. Andy insisted he would drive, so that I could rest on the way down. Which was a good thing, I tend to fall asleep on long drives anyway.
On our way to Vandolia, we listened to the radio and enjoyed the scenery. Between the towns, there was extensive farmland, with beautiful rolling hills, animals grazing peacefully, and crops stretching as far as the eye could see. Plus, it was nice to spend time with Andy, just me and me. It made me wonder: had he been in my life growing up, would we have shared more memories like this? Taking me to father-daughter dances or being there for school functions.
The closer we got to our destination, the more excited I became. The thought of finally meeting my uncle face-to-face made me restless. Would he accept me, or would he provide the answers I was seeking? Donovan had texted me a few days earlier with the details of our meeting—at a small café on the corner of Main and Broadway. As we entered town, we saw the café immediately.
Andy said Donovan was already waiting for us. He spotted him through the large windows facing the street. Anxiously, I searched the windows to see if I could spot him. At first, no one looked familiar until he raised his head and looked straight at us. He had to be my mom's brother. They shared the same eyes and hair color as me. His hair had some grey around his temples.
Grabbing my bag from the back, we headed inside. Andy waved to him, and Uncle Donovan nodded his head in recognition. As soon as his eyes landed on me, a look of shock took over his face. This is the second time someone has looked at me like they had seen a ghost. When we reached his table, he motioned us to sit.
"Hi, you must be Donovan. I'm Roxanne, your niece," I say to him as we sit down.
"You look so much like Amber," he says, smiling. "Where is she. Is she ok?" He asked.
"I'm sorry, but my mom passed away a year ago." He started crying at my words. He must have thought he would be reunited with his little sister. I hated to be the one who broke his heart.
"My little sister is gone?" he asked tearfully.
"Yes, I'm sorry. I brought our family photo album so you could look at it," I stated proudly. He took the book with trembling hands. Looking over the pictures, he smiled lovingly at my mom and my photos.
"She was so happy to be pregnant with you. I thought we would reunite that night, but I'm not sure what happened to her." He says.
"What happened that night? Is anyone else still alive?" Andy asked.
"As far as I know now, Amber and I are the only ones who made it out. The people who did this are still in that town watching and waiting. Why did you buy that house? Didn't your mom tell you it was dangerous?" he asked.