Chapter One-Family

We drove for two hours before my mother's trembles subsided. Her eyes were puffy and red, tears still shimmering within them. I pressed my lips together to keep from asking questions she didn't seem ready to answer, but I wasn’t able to control the direction of my thoughts.

 Even though I only saw the man for a moment, his face was etched permanently into my mind. The fact my mother knew him made me even more curious. As each mile passed, I became more determined to discover the answers. My mind echoed with the one clue that hinted at his identity. His name…Emilian.

I closed my eyes as I tried to find his name in my memories, coming up empty. I had never met him, and my mother had never mentioned him. I was certain of that. I frowned as I remembered the expression on her face when she said his name. Her eyes had widened in fear and her face had turned ashen.

 I swallowed as I wondered why. Did he hurt her? My blood chilled at that possibility. My hands trembled as his face rose in my mind again, noticing our similarities, shying away from the idea that kept rising to the surface. Even though I tried to force him from my thoughts, my mind wouldn't let him go. Why did we resemble each other so much?   

That fact disturbed me more than my mother’s fear. If we were connected the way I suspected, she lied to me my entire life. My father didn't die in a car accident, like she told me. I swallowed as darkness broke through my soul and caused me to fear where I came from.   

I opened my eyes and peeked at my mother. My heart dropped when I realized she still drove with her wide, blue eyes fixed on the road, her back rigid. Every now and then, she would tremble and a whimper would break free from her lips. Her hands tightened around the steering wheel, gripping it so hard, her knuckles turned white. She was holding on by a thread, which was slowly fraying before my eyes. It didn’t escape me that she avoided looking at me. It was as if she feared glancing at me would cause her to break.

I narrowed my eyes as I straightened, resolved to find out what she knew. She would have to face me. I wasn't going away. She would answer my questions whether she wanted to or not.

“Momma,” I whispered, rubbing my chest with my fingertips. It hurt that she avoided looking at me.

She stiffened and turned her head, staring at me, her eyes filled with the darkness of fear and grief. Tears still stained her face. The sight caused a lump to form in my throat, preventing me from speaking right away.

Her chin trembled, as if the sight of me would cause her to burst into sobs again. Instead, she took a deep breath, closing her eyes briefly before peering at me again.

“You should lie down,” she croaked in a voice so different from the one I had known my entire life. The softness was gone. Only fear and deep sadness remained.

 I was so focused on her voice that it took a moment for what she said to finally register in my brain. I blinked as I absorbed her words. She already knew where we were going. That had never happened so fast before. In the thirty times we had moved, I didn’t remember one move that had taken less than two weeks to plan. My stomach twisted in dread. A sense that this move was very different from the others filled me.

 I sat in my seat, staring at my mother in confusion. I ran my hands through my hair as I tried to make sense of everything happening. There had been no planning with this move. It was instantaneous. Since leaving the strange man behind, we had stopped only once, and though my mother had made a phone call, the conversation had taken less than five minutes. What move could take such little preparation?

I tilted my head as I studied her…really studied her.

She was not simply frightened. She was worried. It showed in the way she shifted her gaze from me to the road and back again. I scratched my temple and frowned before I asked, “Where are we going?”

Suspicion was clear in my voice. My mother fidgeted in her seat, her eyes twitching as if wanting to find anywhere to look but at me. Finally, she took a deep breath and let it out, relaxing a bit.

 “The safest place I have ever been,” she whispered as her eyes softened and nostalgia drifted into her gaze, replacing her fear.

 I rolled my eyes, annoyed with the vague answers, especially with so many questions in my head. I felt as if I were losing my mind and she wasn’t helping. “And where is that?” I asked in a sharp, cold voice that made her wince.

She glanced back at me and bit her full bottom lip before answering, a small smile on her face. “Timbly Mountain, Colorado.”

My eyes widened in shock. She knew I would recognize the name. I had been there before, though I could not remember it. “Where I was born?”

My mother nodded as she raised a pale hand and brushed a strand of long, blonde hair behind her ear. When I noticed her hand shaking, I narrowed my eyes and wondered why.

 “Yes,” she said. “But it’s also where our family is.”  

 I blinked. My mother never mentioned anything about relatives. To my knowledge, we didn’t have any. The fact she never mentioned them before now made me even more suspicious. Something bad must have happened for her to keep them from me.

“Family?” I asked, realizing shock and wariness layered my voice. My stomach twisted, as if warning me of impending danger, and I gripped the edge of my seat, trying to calm the sudden urge to run.

She shrugged, trying to seem unbothered, but her eyes shifted away from me again. “Well, as close to family as we have.”

 I frowned as I peered at her, exasperated. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, trying not to become annoyed. I blew it out, then opened my eyes and faced her again.

 “Mom, will you please explain everything?” I asked through gritted teeth, finally losing all patience. 

 She sighed and nodded before glancing back at the road. As she spoke, her voice contained so much sadness, it made my chest hurt. I wondered whether I really needed the explanation. Still, I pressed my lips together as tightly as possible and listened, determined not to say a word until she finished.  

“When my parents kicked me out at fifteen because I was pregnant with you, I was forced to live on the street,” she said, her face darkening. I gazed at her, experiencing a pang of misery for the girl she had once been. She was rejected for keeping me. She smiled, sensing my pain, but even the smile revealed all the hurt her parents’ rejection caused. She took a deep breath. “I was eight months pregnant and unable to get a job because of my age. I didn’t know how we would survive. When a woman named Sophia found me living in a park, she took me home with her. She took care of me and made me part of her family.”

 Suspicion whispered through me and I narrowed my eyes. “If Sophia and her family are so wonderful, why haven’t you told me about them until now?”

 My mother’s face tensed. I realized I had hit on some clue that gave a hint as to how everything fit together. She leaned away from me and winced. “I should have told you, but I didn’t because I missed them. Talking about them made it hurt more.”

 My mother had never been a good liar, and I knew she lied now. The problem was I didn’t understand how to uncover the lie. It was still a mystery.

“But if they are family, you should have mentioned them,” I said, watching her tense further. I raised my brow. Something was wrong. “I had a right to know, to meet them before now.”

 We stared at each other silently. Finally, her face fell and she stared out of the windshield. She sighed. “I admit, I should have told you.” Her shoulders drooped. “But I can promise you this. They are good people. They won’t let anything happen to us.”

I studied her face, still seeing fear there. Sighing, I realized I needed to ask about the man, even with the risk of her lying to me. “Momma, do you know the man who tried to attack us?”

A tremor shook her, but she managed to nod. “Yes, I do, but I will explain that later,” she said, begging me silently not to ask any more questions. Her eyes pooled with tears. I frowned as she continued. “I promise I will, but right now, we need to be safe. That is the only thing I can think about. So, please, sleep for now. I’ll tell you after we arrive. I-I promise.”

I was confused and worried, but nodded. Obviously, the man terrified my mother. If she needed to be somewhere safe to be able to tell me about him, I would not take that away from her.

When I reclined the seat and closed my eyes, I heard her let out a relieved sigh. As I lay there, the fear she experienced began to flutter around in my chest. I realized, with absolute certainty, that whatever happened was worse than sleepwalking, and whoever this man was, he was the cause of her fear. Guilt flooded me because, even though my mother was frightened, I needed to find out why.