Black Box

By Casey J. Hansen

After the sudden death of Amaris Jensens father and the mysterious disappearance of her mother, Amaris is sent to live with her cousin who can only be described as the perfect stranger. Shes introduced to Sandon Davis, and learns about his practice as a self-defense trainer for seven girls. But Amaris soon finds that there werent always seven to begin with. Where once there were ten girls, now only the seven remain under Sandons coaching. Immediately, the trainees adopt Amaris into their group. The closer they become, the more danger Amaris finds herself in. While dealing with the heavy stress of her fathers death, she notices that every girl, as well as Sandon himself, wear a strange precious stone around their neck. As Sandon gains her trust, Amaris continues to feel that he is hiding somethingsomething that will lead to her undoing.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Nov 2, 2016
• ISBN: 9781524554743

Casey J. Hansen

Cassandra J. Hansen studies Writing and Psychology and lives in Washington with her parents and little sister, Gabrielle. When she is not writing, Cassandra is either reading, going to school, or spending time with her friends and family. Other works of Cassandra J. Hansen found on Amazon and Nook include: Lorie’s Phantom series: Keys and Locks One in the Same Lorie Incarnate (coming soon)

Book preview

Chapter 1

The seat was still warm when I slid in just before the bell rang, plopping my backpack next to me on the ground.

Amaris, can I borrow your notes? Kevin Hurst whispered, leaning in on my right side of the long table. Fishing my notes out of my binder from last night, I pushed them over. Thanks, he said.

Good luck on the test this Friday. You can’t borrow my answer sheet, I said.

Challenge accepted, he teased. With the roll of my eyes, I zoned into what Mrs. Crane was droning on about. Sixth period Civics was always the damper of my day, and the fact that it was Monday didn’t make it any better. My thoughts soon abandoned Mrs. Crane’s lecture on the types of governments. The door squeaked open as an office TA handed Mrs. Crane a pink slip of paper. The TA’s eyes flickered to mine before he left the classroom.

Amaris, Mrs. Crane said and handed me the note. It’s from Mr. Satterfield. I couldn’t think of any reason why the Principle wanted to see me. My grades weren’t perfect, but I didn’t have any F’s or D’s and my attendance had always been spot on.

What did you do? Kevin asked as I collected my backpack and bundled up my coat.

Nothing, I mouthed. I want my notes back tomorrow. I was glad for the opportunity to skip class, even if it was for a little while.

The air was hard and crisp as I set off across the campus. I took the long way to the main office to stall for as much time as I could. Before long, I forced myself to pick up my pace to save my fingertips from the frosty air. I swallowed many times to get moisture back down my throat. I didn’t know why I was so nervous; I didn’t do anything wrong. Repeating the mantra over in my head, I pushed open the doors to the lobby, filling my lungs with warmth. It had to have been Dad calling from the hospital. He always called the school to tell me to ride the bus home due to his random schedule at the hospital. He never knew if he could pick me up on time. They never had to call me down to the Principle’s office; they always sent a TA with a note. It was a simple code: if I never received a note by the end of the day, I knew that Dad would pick me up.

We wouldn’t have to worry about this if I had my own car, I had said to him the previous year.

Over my dead body, he laughed. We wouldn’t have anywhere to put it, sweetheart. Our garage was only wide enough to fit one car, and the street was too narrow for people to park off to the side.

As I drew closer to the offices, past the conjoining gym and theater, I remembered that it couldn’t have been Dad calling me from the hospital. He was taking today off. I stopped suddenly, apologizing to the sophomore who was walking too close behind me ever since I came through the door. They threw me a disapproving glare before disappearing behind the doors to the theater. Desperate for something to stall me, I turned to the glass trophy case so I could pretend to admire the success of our school.

Gold metals were dedicated to the track team and five soccer first-place trophies lined the back of the case. The basketball team donated the ball that was used in the state championship game last year where we took first place. The shelves were complete with student’s artwork showing first place finishes in the Puyallup Fair. A little banner was concealed behind a silver-bowling trophy. GO KEN was all that could be read, leaving the T! in the shadows of the other awards.

In the back of the case stood my reflection, my wide eyes peering back at a girl who was in desperate need of a hairbrush. Slipping into the bathroom, I threw my backpack off my shoulders and dug around for my tube of lip-gloss in the outer pocket. The bathroom door cracked against the tile walls. The second Cassie Ham saw me, she squealed and threw her arms around my tiny frame. Even though she towered over me by a foot, she did not take kindly to how fragile I was when she spun me around. We clicked automatically when we met freshmen year in our physical science class. She always made a point of greeting me with unrestrained excitement no matter where we were, despite the strange looks people threw at us. One had to truly know Cassie Ham to accept her. It was the same way for all of my friends.

Hey babe! she chirped and set me down with a sloppy kiss on my cheek. I had to reach up to her shoulders to steady myself.

Hey, I giggled, pressing my lips together to smear the gloss. Do you have a brush? Cassie yanked her French nails through her light, reddish-blonde hair, each lock twisted into perfection. She had to get up at five-thirty to make it look like that.

Duh, she said like it was insane for any girl to walk around without one. I felt the same about lip-gloss. I pulled and tugged the bristles though mud-brown strands of hair. Last year I asked Dad if I could color it a shade lighter for my sweet sixteen. He said that I could get highlights instead. We went somewhere inexpensive downtown and the color faded within a month. Thinking of Dad, I remembered I was supposed to be talking with the Principle. That’s the thing about Cassie Ham: her presence makes you forget about everything else, makes you slow down and take a breath before being slammed back into the rush of the day.

What are you doing? I asked as I pulled my backpack straps on and threw my coat over my shoulder.

Skipping Gym, Cassie answered and popped a piece of gum in her mouth, holding out the box to me. A few months ago she quit smoking and I’ve never seen her without a pack of gum since. I shook my head and made my way to the door.

I got called down to Satterfield’s office, I said with a roll of my eyes.

What did you do? she asked and blew a bubble, licking the gum off of her lips.

I have no idea.

I’ll see you later, babe! she called as the door clicked shut. I pulled what nerve I had left and knocked lightly on Mr. Satterfield’s office door and it swung wide open.

Go on and have a seat, Ms. Jensen, he said. He was stiff and I could see his signature sweat glistening on his brow. No one has ever seen him without sweat on his face. His head was lowered and he wouldn’t look into my eyes as I set down my belongings. A woman stood up from her seat by his desk. This is Mrs. Pierce, he introduced us. She’s a social worker. My fingers fidgeted with a lose piece of string on my shirt.

Hello, I greeted and cleared my throat. My feet tucked under my chair.

The hospital called this afternoon. It’s about your father, Mr. Satterfield paused.

What does he want? I asked apprehensively. He must have gone into work after all, but by the morose glance shared between the social worker and Mr. Satterfield, I knew that something was terribly wrong.

He’s been admitted and his doctor has requested to see you right away. Mrs. Pierce is going to take you there now. I shook my head, not understanding what he was saying. I had just poked my head in his room that morning to say goodbye. I heard his voice groggily whisper that he loved me and that he would see me after school. It started like just any ordinary Monday, any ordinary day.

Mrs. Pierce opened the door of her car and I scooted in the backseat. She made small talk with me but gave up as we merged onto the highway. The clock on the dashboard said that school had been out for twenty minutes. Only, it doesn’t feel like a clock—it’s a bomb and it’s inside of me, counting down the final seconds until I explode. I couldn’t fathom the reason why Dad was admitted into the hospital, but I persuaded myself that everything would make sense after I got to talk with him.

I’m sorry to have to pull you out of school so abruptly, Mrs. Pierce said as we arrived.

I just really need to see my Dad, I replied, growing irritated by the lack of knowledge as to what the hell was going on. From the corner of my eye I saw her bite her bottom lip but she didn’t say anything. As soon as we entered the waiting room, my neighbor, Mrs. O’Malley, found me right away with tears leaking down her face.

Amaris, I’m so sorry! she gushed. I took a hold of her arms in a tight grip. Her frail body was shaking under my clasp.

What’s going on? Where is my Dad?

This way, Amaris, Dr. Garlow announced from across the room. It was mostly bare with the exception of a few people tapping away on their I-phones or watching the news on the TV hanging above the check-in counter. Dr. Garlow was one of Dad’s coworkers, and I knew him since birth. His daughter used to baby-sit me. Our commotion caused looks of interest from those in the waiting room, making my cheeks flush. I reached into the side pocket outside of my backpack and smeared another layer of lip-gloss as we entered through the back of the waiting room.

Dr. Garlow, I— I said as Mrs. Pierce and Mrs. O’Malley followed behind. We twisted around the halls and came to a stop outside of a hospital room. I tried to peer into the window but a drape hanging over the other side of the door blocked my sight.

Did you know about your father’s cancer? he asked. I took in a sharp breath.

What? Was this what everything was all about? I turned to open the door but Mrs. O’Malley put a shaking hand over the door.

He had a brain tumor, Dr. Garlow announced. For a second I thought I heard him wrong. I blinked my eyes several times, thinking I fell asleep in class. Mrs. O’Malley wrapped her arm around my shoulders but I shook her off aggressively.

"He had? What are you talking about?" I asked. Why was he using the past tense? And why was Mrs. O’Malley still crying? What was everyone sorry for? Dr. Garlow nodded at Mrs. O’Malley and her fingers grazed across my arm.

Amaris, this afternoon when I was walking Gem, we passed by your house. Mrs. O’Malley had a German Shepard. She paid me to walk her. Gem started to bark and tugged hard on the leash. She would have dragged me if I hadn’t let go. I ran after her as she pawed at your front door, and I had to ring the door bell but your father didn’t answer. My head was spinning, trying to make sense of why Dad wouldn’t open the door.

He’s a heavy sleeper. He wouldn’t have heard you, I said, my voice beginning to shake.

The front door was unlocked, she continued. You must have forgotten to lock it on your way out this morning. Gem ran upstairs and stopped outside of your father’s bedroom door and began to howl—

I don’t see where this is going, I interrupted her and turned to Dr. Garlow. My Dad has cancer? I didn’t want to know what she found, didn’t want to hear the rest of her story and didn’t want to believe it.

Amaris, your father has passed away. I jerked away from Mrs. O’Malley’s offered hand.

What kind of a sick joke are you playing? I snapped. Get his tumor out! Do something! My body was shaking and my knees felt like wax.

Amaris, Dr. Garlow said and lightly shook his head. His face fell and tears welled up in his eyes. Dr. Garlow never cries. When he does, it’s always serious. I’m so sorry Amaris. I shoved past Mrs. O’Malley and pushed the door open. Ripping the curtain away, I stood six feet away from a man on the bed.

I would have been a fool for telling myself that he was only asleep. Dad’s skin was pallid with no sign of life on the surface. He was just a body, an empty shell. A carcass with no use.

How could you do this to me? I screamed. What about my high school graduation? You promised me we would take a trip to Hawaii. You’re supposed to walk me down the aisle on my wedding day! Get up! I grabbed his arm and pulled. Mrs. O’Malley was grabbing my other hand, yanking me away. I hate you! I yelled at him. You lied to me! You said you would never leave me like Mom did! You promised! Mrs. O’Malley pulled me into her arms and I didn’t have the strength to fight her off.

When I was little I used to fall asleep on the couch in Dr. Garlow’s office. I pretended I was asleep when Dad threw a blanket on me and made sure it was long enough to cover my feet. He worried that my toes would turn purple if they weren’t covered. Dad was new to the hospital at the time, and he didn’t have his own office yet. Sometimes I woke up in Dad’s arms as he carried me out to the parking garage. Others I woke up at home, tucked in a cocoon of warm blankets in my bed with my stuffed animals all around me. Dad never kept more than four in my crib, afraid that I would suffocate in my sleep. Working in the hospital got him paranoid. He heard so many tragic stories.

Amaris can stay with me, Mrs. O’Malley said and gripped my shoulders possessively. We were sitting in Dr. Garlow’s office. I hadn’t said a word as they discussed my custody. Mrs. Pierce was sitting at Dr. Garlow’s desk, her fingers flipping through a document. I’ll adopt her right now, Mrs. O’Malley was saying. I used to love to daydream what it would be like to live with Mrs. O’Malley. She held me as a baby when I came home from the hospital and has been my Nana ever since. But now she was suffocating me.

Her father wrote in his will that he wanted her to stay with her closest living relative. She has a cousin in Shoreline. I’m supposed to take her there when she’s packed up, Mrs. Pierce said, having found what she was looking for.

I can help her, and she can stay with me until then, Mrs. O’Malley begged.

That’s fine with me, Mrs. Pierce replied.

I didn’t like her tone, how it dripped with authority. As if I had no say in what I wanted to do with my broken life. But that was just it, I was only seventeen. The state can do whatever they want with me.

Does she have to move so soon? Dr. Garlow asked, Can’t this discussion wait? I silently thanked him.

The entire process usually takes a few weeks, Mrs. Pierce answered. Her cousin is being notified today. Tomorrow we will know if he accepts full custody of Amaris, she said and nodded at me.

And what if he doesn’t? I asked. What if he doesn’t want me? Can I stay here? Mrs. Pierce’s lips fell into a thin line.

If your cousin declines for any reason, the second option your father provided is your grandparents in Kansas. A lump formed in my throat and I pushed it down. Moving away from my friends and hometown seemed unreal.

I can’t believe this is happening, I let go of a sob and cried into Mrs. O’Malley’s shoulder. I squeezed my hands together, begging myself to wake up.

Chapter 2

Dad was born into a big family so I have tons of uncles, aunts, and cousins I don’t know exist. Mom left us shortly after I was born so it’s always just been the two of us. She used to send me birthday and Christmas cards every year as if she had any right to send them, but I threw them away and didn’t bother to open a single one. If she had anything to say, she knew where I lived. Dad backed away, letting me deal with it on my own. One year I asked him why she didn’t want to see me. Wasn’t she curious to know whom I turned out to be? Didn’t she want to know what kind of a daughter she left behind?

She left Washington, Dad told me.

Where is she? I asked. I felt like I had the right to know. She was my Mom after all, even if I didn’t like it.

I don’t know. But she’s gone and she’s not coming back. I don’t know how he knew of her whereabouts but I never asked again. I hated her so much for hurting him and for leaving me without giving me a chance or explaining what I did wrong. She left her husband with a newborn baby and even worse, didn’t bother to say goodbye.

Dad had many girlfriends and a few were serious but he never got around to marriage. I figured he only dated to fill the empty void Mom left in his heart.

You’re the only girl for me, he’d say after each break up, and he made me feel like the most important person in the world. I’ve got all I need right here, he said as he kissed my forehead. He never felt like a Dad to me. He’d always been my best friend. That’s why his death hurt me more than Mom’s absence.

I held it together as Mrs. O’Malley drove us home. She talked and I listened.

Don’t worry about school. That’s the last thing that should be on your mind right now, she said as we came to a red light. You can stay in my guest bedroom. Unless you want to sleep in your own bed, she said and peered over at me, her thin glasses falling off the bridge of her pointed nose. I shook my head. All right then, she sighed and reached across to caress the back of my neck. I automatically leaned into her arm the same way I did when I was little when she watched over me on long nights, waiting for Dad to get back from a long shift at the hospital. I’ll make you a cup of tea when we get home. Do you still like green tea? And do you still like it sweet? I nodded slowly, staring straight ahead at the long line of traffic. Don’t do that to your nails, dear, she said and swatted my hand away from my mouth. I didn’t even know I was chewing my nails.

Sorry, I muttered and leaned my head against the cold window. How long will it take to finalize everything? Mrs. Pierce gave us the run down of what was going to happen this week. Sandon Davis, the man Dad gave full custody rights, accepted ownership. He has to be interviewed by CPS. They decide if he’s financially stable enough to take care of me, has no criminal record and is physically, mentally, and socially eligible. They visit his house for an examination, and interview his friends, coworkers, and his parents.

We were told that it should be done by the end of the week, but I really don’t know. Mrs. Pierce said she’d be in touch.

I’ve never heard of him before, I said.

What?

Sandon Davis. I have no idea who he is. Dad and I used to go to the family reunions every year until I turned six and developed a fear of flying. So Dad went by himself and I stayed with Mrs. O’Malley.

Your father knows him enough to trust him with you, she replied and we pulled into her drive way. My eyes found my house two doors down. Not long ago, I had walked out of the army green painted door, headed off to school, having no clue that Dad would die soon after. The most haunting thought was the exact moment he passed away. Was it as I was walking out the door? Was there a sign that I missed? Could I have saved him if there was? I’m not supposed to be in Mrs. O’Malley’s car. I’m supposed to be eating dinner with Dad, helping him put the dishes away, and sitting down with him as he helped me with my math homework. It was then that I lost it.

My shoulders shook as I heaved out one wail after another. Mrs. O’Malley unbuckled her seatbelt and pulled me into her arms. She’d been through all my temper tantrums, changed my diapers, and even went to the store with me to buy my first box of tampons. There was nothing to be shy about in front of her. I didn’t know how much time had passed when she coaxed me out of the car and into her living room. Soon, tissues dotted the carpet.

I’m going to make some tea. What would you like for dinner? she asked after I calmed down.

I’m not hungry, I sobbed.

You have to eat something, dear, she said and brushed my hair away from my face. I nodded because she was right. I can make some pasta but it will take awhile. Why don’t you go get cleaned up?

Okay, I said and got up from the couch, padding across the hardware floor to the guest bedroom. It welcomed me with the purple floral pattern bedspread complete with thick pillows, light mint green walls, and white suite furniture. It was familiar and home and mine. I shut myself in the attached bathroom and took a long look at myself in the mirror.

The image before me was unrecognizable. My hair was a stringy mess and my face was puffy and red. I looked past the blemishes and breakouts on my forehead and concentrated on what I saw. My eyes were deep pools of dark amber with splashes of vale green around the inside of my irises. I thought about the person I was yesterday and the person I am right now, broken and bruised and puffy. One thing I knew for sure was that I would never see the same girl in the mirror again. Stretching out time, I could feel myself changing, my insides shifting to make a new person. From this moment on, nothing will ever be the same.

Tearing off my clothes,