BloodHeir

By Sisters Negron

In this thrilling page-turning YA twist to the Dracula story, a barbaric vampiric figure has stalked the earth for centuries. Seventeen-year old Carli has been tormented by nightmares after her mother died and her father disappeared. She vaguely remembers the day her father left. He'd given her a jewelry box that was in her mother's family for g

• Language: English
• Publisher: Palmetto Publishing
• Release date: Dec 16, 2022
• ISBN: 9798885906746

Sisters Negron

Lizeth and Yvonne Negron are of Hispanic decent. Lizeth is in the medical field, and Yvonne is pursuing a degree in literature. They are pet lovers, who have a variety including a talking African Grey parrot and are both currently residing in Florida

Book preview

T

he darkness, like a shroud, enveloped and swallowed everything it touched. As if this weren’t enough to dampen Carli’s spirits, she also had to deal with a merciless downpour that had drenched her skin to the core. The fierce wind, meanwhile, made any movement difficult. She tried to stem the freezing cold that was coursing through her body by wrapping her arms around herself. However, this was of no use since all she was wearing was a nightgown.

For the life of her, Carli couldn’t remember how or when she had arrived here. She waded through the water in her bare feet, stopping every so often to peer into the blackness. The trembling she had succumbed to was not only a product of the bone-deep cold overwhelming her body but also her profound fear.

Hellooo! she yelled out. Is there anybody out there? Can anyone hear me?

She strained to hear any sound indicating a life besides her own. Yet she only heard the echoes of the never-ending tempest. Sighing woefully, she reminded herself of what she had to do to find a way out. C’mon, Carli, keep moving.

On and on she trudged through the elements, which continued to take a toll on her mind and body. For the first time, it occurred to her that she might not make it, that she could die alone in this hell.

Something now began to weigh on every step she took through the inches of water rushing over her feet. What is this? she wondered. Unable to see through the pitch, she bent down on one knee and curiously reached into the wetness. Paper—masses of it, flowing through the water. Grabbing a soaked stack, she brought it to her face. The absence of light made it difficult to make out the shadowy images upon the sheets. A ray of hope emerged, though: perhaps the stack contained a clue to finding her way out. Just then a terrifying blast of thunder startled her.

She turned her attention away from the momentary ray of hope that was welling within her. She followed the bright flashes of lightning filling the sky. With them came the first hints of light and clarity, offering her the ability to see faint outlines of what she held in her hands.

Posters, flyers, memos, signs, and photos of children—missing children, lost children, their sorrowful families needing and begging for help in finding them. Still photos of young boys and girls smiling but at the same time desperately crying out to be reunited with their mothers, fathers, sisters, and brothers.

Tommy Dixon, age six, Omaha, Nebraska

Charlene Katz, age nine, the Bronx, New York

Tanya Shays, age five, Coral Springs, Florida

Jamie Rivera, age four, Bayamón, Puerto Rico

They were from everywhere and nowhere. From countries around the world. From past to present. Hundreds, perhaps thousands, rushing toward her along the fast-running water brought on by the deluge.

What does this have to do with me? cried out Carli in despair.

Then she saw it, or perhaps she thought she saw it. A structure, a sizeable structure, looming in the distance. Dropping the contents of her hands, she began to run as fast as she could. Sloshing through the deep puddles of loss, sorrow, and hope.

The biting cold rain, the harsh wind, and the blackness of night no longer mattered.

Reaching that thing was what mattered because it meant warmth, safety, and security. At least that was what she was counting on as she raced onward.

All of a sudden, it was in front of her, seeming larger than life. Carli took in the immensity of it. It resembled a Victorian mansion on steroids, seemingly taking up an entire block. Oddly, though, it had no windows.

It was the wrought-iron doors that she could not stop looking at. They were at least ten feet high and decorated with runes that had been fashioned centuries ago. On each door was a skull, a child’s skull. With a brass knocker within its teeth. Carli could not blink; she couldn’t move. She just kept staring at that door. It was the chattering of her own teeth from the intense cold that brought her back to the reality she faced.

She took a step back, turned around, and thought about her choices. She knew they were bleak at best. Deep down in the recesses over which reason stood guard, a voice of conviction made the decision for her: Nothing resides out here but darkness and desolation. You have found a sanctuary, and within its walls is the answer to that one nagging question of why you are here.

Apprehension and dread gripped her as she climbed the steps toward the doors. Forcing her gaze away from the skulls, she concentrated all of her might and pushed as hard as she could, driving the heavy doors apart enough for her to squeeze through.

The residual water from the storm clung to her body and dripped onto the floor. Carli’s eyes were nervously focused on the light emanating somewhere from within the structure and down at the base of the set of wooden steps before her. For a second she considered turning back then quickly decided against it and closed the doors shut behind her. The die was now cast.

Hellooo… Carli said into the hollow. There was no response Is there…anybody down there? she asked hesitantly. I was alone outside in the storm, and I saw this place…I was cold and wet…hello?

Still, no answer came. Seemingly alone, at least for now, Carli quickly pulled her nightgown over her head. She wrung it in her hands, dripping even more water onto the floor, then quickly put it back over her body.

She felt somewhat better, or at least a little warmer. Though this was short-lived as she peered down the steps and into whatever dreadful experience awaited her. That nagging little voice in her head was urging her on once again: You must keep moving.

Shit, Carli murmured. Then she sighed. No risk, no gain.

She took one step, then another; soon she stood at the landing. The sight of cobwebs and the taste of stale air greeting her.

Carli moved slowly into the corridor, which was about four feet wide, with walls made of stone and the ground of inlaid bricks. Every ten feet or so, a fiery torch was affixed on either side.

From the outside, it had seemed the structure contained many rooms. Yet the torches exposed a strange reality: there were no rooms, no windows or even doors. Nothing but a seemingly endless passageway of shadows, giving Carli the eerie feeling that she was not alone.

What the hell, declared Carli. Is there someone out…

Then from out of nowhere, a voice said, Carli, save the child!

Her reaction was immediate because she would know that voice anywhere—it was that of her father. The man who had meant so much to her and had disappeared months ago was now here, of all places.

Daddy, where are you? said Carli as she raced toward his fading cry. I’m coming, Daddy. I’m coming!

Carli covered a great distance, but there was no end in sight. Then she made a sudden stop, not knowing what to do or where to go.

Daddy, please tell me where you are!

No answer. So she ran headlong into the shadows, and again she heard her father’s voice, which seemed closer as it echoed off the walls, forcing her to stop and try to regain her sense of direction.

No! Carli…danger! Find the child and run.

I’ll find you, Daddy, she responded, sensing the desperation in his voice and planting her feet forward to continue her search. Then she froze at his sudden, agonizing scream of pain, which resonated throughout her being.

Daddy…Daddy, say something. She fell to her knees, knowing the plea was useless. Daddy, please don’t leave me again. Carli softly cried, and in the midst of what she felt was the end, she heard two other unexpected voices.

The first was a low, guttural whisper that sent a shiver down her spine: Dieeee.

Frightened, she stood up instantly and searched the shadows.

Pleeease help me, said the second voice, which belonged to a child. He’s gonna find me.

All of Carli’s concerns and emotions immediately faded. Wiping away her tears and with her composure intact, she reassured the child. I hear you, sweetheart. I’m coming.

With a renewed sense of purpose, Carli set off to save the life of the child. She was now convinced that he was the reason she was here, and in turn she came to the alarming realization that the owner of this sinister cage had been there all along. Fixed on the task at hand she almost missed it as she sprinted deeper into the labyrinth. It entered her peripheral vision on her right side in the form of a momentary flash. She stopped and slowly turned to figure out whether it was real or just another shadow. She was now in front of it. She extended her hand and nervously felt the distinguishing outlines attached to the wall. It was a door. Nothing more, nothing less. It stood about three inches shorter than Carli’s five-foot-seven frame and was not wider than three feet. No ornamentation, no skulls.

Thank goodness, she thought with relief, just a plain door and a run-of-the-mill doorknob.

Carli ran her hand curiously across the door and stopped in the center, as if trying to reach past it and get a feel for what was inside. Sure she had no telepathic powers, she then placed her ear against it to see if she could hear who or what was inside. Again, nothing.

She softly rapped on the door, pressed her face into the doorjamb, and whispered, Hello? It’s me—Carli. Are you in there? The only response was silence.

The dread of finding something forbidding on the other side was causing her great anxiety. She just could not bring herself to grab hold of that doorknob, turn it, and push the door open.

Come on, Carli. He’s in there—he has to be. Open the damn door.

This was life or death. Taking a deep breath, she mustered all the courage she had and grabbed the doorknob. With her heart pounding furiously inside her chest, Carli slowly turned the knob and pushed open the door.

Are you in here? she whispered nervously,

Again silence, except the thump-thump, thump-thump of her heart. Standing on her toes, Carli managed to grab the torch just above the door and brought it with her through the opening.

The closet-like space had a dirt floor and was about five feet deep. Even with the torch, it was difficult to see anything. She had almost given up when the whites of his eyes gave him away. There he was, barely visible, as inscrutable as his intentions, in the far corner. Trying to conceal himself from someone or something.

Hi. I’m Carli, she said reassuringly in a hushed tone. Don’t be afraid. I’m the one who called out to you before, remember?

He didn’t say a word but just stared in disbelief that Carli was actually there.

Carli moved in closer and could now see that he was huddled in the corner with his knees up against his chest. He couldn’t have been more than five years old. He was trembling in his nakedness, and those same eyes that had given him away told the whole story—he was petrified.

It’s OK, she said, taking another step toward him. I’m here to help. And then another. What’s your name? And one more.

Now she was right in front of him, and she could see all of him. He didn’t seem hurt at first, but what she had mistaken for dirt or mud stains on his face, head, and body was really dried blood. It looked as if he had been dipped in blood from head to toe.

The sadness of the situation was overwhelming, and a tear trickled down Carli’s cheek.

Dear God, she thought, what kind of animal would do this?

She knew the answer was neither man nor beast; it was evil itself. What else could have been responsible for what this child had been through and perhaps…

Kyle. It was almost inaudible, but Carli caught it and smiled.

Kyle is a great name, she said, reaching out her hand.

That trust that came with a child’s wonderful sense of innocence had been wiped away from Kyle. He looked at Carli and her extended hand as things to be wary of and didn’t budge.

Carli thought about just grabbing him and making a run for the front door, but he had been through enough already, and she decided against it. In that instant the air around her began to stir; it felt heavy against her body. Whatever it was, it was close. Suddenly it became colder, to the extent she could see her own breath. They would have to move now.

Kyle, your mommy is waiting for you outside, she said, feeling horrible for lying to the child but knowing full well that it was the only way to get him to act. Don’t you want to see her?

The antenna within his heart was awakened, and his demeanor softened. He almost smiled.

My mommy is here? replied Kyle with a hint of glee.

Yes, she is, but we have to go now.

Timidly he took a step forward but then reconsidered and stopped. What about the bad man? he asked meekly.

He’s gone, Kyle, Carli said, lying again. The bad man is gone…I promise. She extended her hand once more and pleaded for him to move. Please, Kyle, we have to go.

Kyle began to move forward to meet her, then froze where he stood. Something was wrong, very wrong.

Kyle? said Carli.

Kyle’s eyes were as big as saucers and were staring with fierce intensity past Carli and at something else. He began to shudder involuntarily and urinated. The instinct to flee from imminent danger screamed at Carli as the pungent smell of rotting flesh caused a tightness in her stomach.

Lamentably it was too late. For she too was struck with the virus of mortal fear as the spine-tingling breath from the horrific being fell upon the nape of her neck. As she was rendered catatonic, her breathing quickened with every desperate heartbeat.

Oh no, she muttered to herself in terror.

Slowly she forced herself to look at what was behind her. From the corner of her eye, she could see the terrified little boy digging feverishly into the dirt floor like a feral dog trying to get as far away as possible.

It came quickly, with an explosion of pain. Her neck had been ripped into. Blood—her blood—was flowing down her gown.

I don’t want to die…she thought. Then she began to fade.

A

violent scream shattered the fine line between the realm of dreams and the physical world as the convulsive nightmare came to an end, bolting Carli upright; in a continuous motion, she quickly turned on the lamp on her nightstand. For she could not bear to be in darkness for a second longer.

It’s over! It’s really over! She exulted while trying to catch her breath, and before she could take another breath, she was unsettled once again by the loud knocking at her bedroom door.

Señorita Sebastián, are you all right? came a heavily accented voice. I heard you scream…may I come in?

The voice outside her door was that of Carli’s tía Maria. Tía Maria, and her husband, tío Alfredo, had been around for as long as she could remember. They meant well and cared for her, although they were more like overprotective caretakers who provided for all her needs. Yet that Señorita Carli thing made her feel strange.

Their company was the last thing Carli wanted at this moment. No, no…I’m all right; it was just a silly dream. She tried to sound convincing. I’m going right back to sleep.

Are you sure we can’t get you something?

Carli exhaled in frustration. No. It’s really late. Please go back to sleep, and please stop calling me ‘Señorita Carli.’

Yes, Carli. I’m sorry, said tía Maria with a bit of remorse. I’ll see you in the morning.

Carli would have loved to have heard some reassuring words to ease her mind after such a tormented affair, the person she wanted—and needed—was not around.

The clock displayed 3:30 a.m., and though exhausted, she dared not continue her slumber. She could still feel the strands of connection to that awful place and feared the closing of her eyes would bring it all back. No way, no how!

She grabbed her one true friend, Sabeera, and sat on the sill within the large bay window, then stared up into the starry night. This was her place of comfort, peace, and meditation. Before she would often use her telescope to scan the skies and the stars, but not so much anymore.

Carli sighed and let out a mournful breath of futility, thinking about how her life was playing out. It had not always been like this. Before, she had considered her life to be a quite happy one.

She was the only child of Carlos and Eliza Sebastián, who in every decision emphasized the potential benefits to Carli in the present and the future. Their own happiness was derived from the attention, nurturing, and love they gladly gave her. The sun rose and set for them through Carli, each and every day.

Carli was an unusually intelligent girl, and she had learned how to speak and understand words by the age of two. Thus, homeschooling had begun, and tutors had been engaged to teach her the fundamentals of a sound education, including several different languages and the arts. She had quickly developed a fascination with European history, as well as a love for playing the piano and Mozart.

All work and no play, though, would have made even Carli a dull girl. Her father thus saw to it that she worked not only on her mind but also her physical strength. Starting when she was five, he sought to build every muscle in her body. And like her father, she was a natural athlete and looked forward to the daily ritual in her father’s personal gym.

Carli’s favorite thing, however, was also what her father did best. He called it the way of the warrior, and it involved all the arts of attacking and defending.

However, that was but a slice of what he taught her. Much of it was simply about life: the importance of family, being honorable, and possessing good values. At the same time, he always stressed the importance of succeeding in all endeavors through sheer determination and perseverance.

In between were sprinkles of what any child would enjoy: holidays, cartoons, singing, dancing, slides, swings, board games, movies, the world of make-believe, story time, and even a few tea parties. Carli was the princess of their castle and their little girl.

She had very few playmates and friends in her younger years, aside from those she met in the nearby park or the children of her father’s coworkers, who would pay visits to their home. These were rare occurrences, however. One looking in from the outside could have easily concluded that Carli lived a cloistered life.

Raised with an independent and confident air, she began to become quite vocal at the age of thirteen about needing to be part of the real world. Thus began her insistence that she be allowed to attend a regular school. The debate raged in the household for almost two years before Eliza was finally convinced by her husband to allow Carli to do so, though with the caveat that Carli not show any signs of her far-ranging intellect. This Carli found rather strange, but she gladly relented; nobody really liked a know-it-all anyway. So it was that Carli at fifteen began attending a private school within their small community.

It was an exciting time for Carli, but unfortunately, before long fate intervened in the worst way. Four months later, on an average school day, she was pulled from her third-period chemistry lab. She found her father in the counselor’s office with a look of dread and profound sadness in his eyes.

He said words that she would never forget. Her mother, while on a trip to Europe, had been in an auto accident and died. Husband and daughter had been devastated by the news.

Life undoubtedly changed for them both, but more so for Carli. The sorrow was overwhelming and quite hard to manage. She walked the halls of school in a melancholic stupor and at times didn’t go at all. Her father understood and didn’t say anything; he knew that she needed time before she could begin healing. Together, they gave each other the will to go on.

Soon Carli was back in school, a bit broken but moving forward with her life. Once again she found her strength and began earning her place within the student body and dealing with the everyday histrionics of high school life.

A sense of normalcy had begun to take hold once more—or had it?

T

he ruminations at the bay window continued on till dawn. The weight of what Carli had endured the past two years had become too much to bear, and the previous night had been the proverbial last straw; the camel’s back had been shattered.

She knew she could not endure this anymore. It was breaking her apart. She did not know whether she could survive another episode. She wondered whether one day she would end up in a straitjacket being spoon-fed Jell-O for the rest of her life.

Think, Carli, think…there has to be a way out of this madness, she said aloud to herself.

All these events, including the nightmares, had reasons behind them, and she’d have to confront them head-on, in hopes of gaining clarity on this torturous uncertainty. Unfortunately for Carli this task involved going through memories of her family and their surroundings, which also meant looking into her suffering. She knew within it she would find a cure.

She went on to search her memories in a purely analytical sense. It was not the time for reminiscing about good times or mourning the dead. She made a decision. No longer would she allow herself to be chained to a mantle of despair.

She began with her mother. For a brief moment Carli’s thoughts turned to the softness of her hands as they stoked her hair. The many conversations only a loving mother could have with her curious daughter. Then of course the joyful hours of duets between her violin and Eliza’s piano. A wonderful mother, and a a loving wife. Yet, she was sort of an enigma. She knew her but then again, she didn’t.

Carli was not sure whether she was employed. She was almost sure she was not, but she did travel at least three to four times a year, sometimes to Europe. Once she had asked her father about it, and he had briskly told her that it was something she had to do and to not concern herself with it.

It was a secret, she surmised, that was kept from me…but why?

She remembered something out of the ordinary: the staff of tutors in the household would treat her mother with the utmost respect bordering on reverence. In fact, she could have sworn that on one occasion one of them bowed to her. Her mother had not liked this. Then at the wake. Way too many to count. She had not recognized one of them. This makes no sense, she said in frustration. Who were they to you, Mom?

She was on the right track, even though it raised more questions. It was a dot that would eventually connect to another.

Then there was her father. No secrets there. She knew everything about him. He was a security consultant and worked from home and occasionally traveled himself, but it was strictly about his work.

He was a good husband and the greatest dad any child could have ever wanted. Everything around her had a part of her father in it, including the bay window at which she was now submerged in contemplation; he had built it. The telescope she had used by his side on countless nights, charting the heavens, had been a gift on her sixth birthday—even Sabeera had everything to do with him.

Once, as a toddler, Carli had become outraged after learning through a documentary that one of the most beautiful creatures, the Siberian tiger, was doomed to extinction, and she desperately wanted her parents to get her one to save it from its peril. This was obviously out of the question, but her father did the next best thing.

On a holiday morning, she had awoken to find a stuffed version of a Siberian tiger adorned with a big red bow tied around its neck, along with documentation, specifically addressed to her, outlining a program that made her an adoptive parent of a true cub. This would help in saving the species from extinction. It was the greatest gift she had ever received. That stuffed tiger went with her everywhere, and to this day, she considered it her best friend.

As wonderful as these thoughts were, they did nothing to help her in connecting more dots toward a solution. Her father would always tell her to treat any situation she confronted as a puzzle. Find that missing piece, and you would find resolution, but the trick was to figure out where that piece lay.

The piece did exist and was within her reach. Locked away in the recesses of her heart. Nonetheless, Carli saw no other choice but to open that door if she truly wanted to find the answers to this particular puzzle. Lamentably her sorrows would have to provide them.

When her mother passed away, she had her father, her rock, her guiding light, to hold her and tell her that she was not alone. Together they rode the crest of the wave and came out of that tough situation wounded but recovering. Unfortunately, six months ago he too had left, and now she even more brokenhearted and didn’t have anyone else to ease the pain. Not long after, the nightmares had begun. It’s wasn’t just that he had left; he had also caused so much grief and a feeling of abandonment.

I

t was no different than any other afternoon following a day of school. Carli was accompanied by the same person, she was taking the same route, and the same scenery marked the way. The only differences were their conversation, which had become contentious, and what she spied as they approached her home. Several vehicles she had never seen before were parked outside, and her father was placing a travel bag into one of the vehicles parked behind his own.

The conversation quickly ended as an uneasy feeling took hold. After saying a hasty goodbye to her friend, Carli rushed forward.

Dad, she cried. She had perhaps been a second too late, as he was heading back into the house. As she approached, she saw a gentleman standing stoically at the entrance, as if at attention. Once past him she was greeted in dignified politeness by an unfamiliar couple.

Hola, Señorita Sebastián.

She didn’t know what to make of them. She hesitated for a moment, then responded with an abashed hello to the strangers and hurriedly moved on to find her father.

Dad, she called out once again, where are you!

After checking a few areas of the house, she finally found him in the guest room, where he had taken to sleeping since the passing of Eliza, packing a smaller bag; several others were at the ready.

Daddy, she said, anxiously watching his frantic movements. Why are you packing? Who are these people in our home? Are you going somewhere?

Carlos said nothing in response, remaining focused on the task before him, shuffling around and past Carli to grab what he thought necessary. All the while avoiding any eye contact with her and dismissing her presence. As if he had been caught in an act he had not wanted her to see.

Daddy, Carli pleaded, please talk to me?

Carlos continued on, causing Carli great frustration with his silence.

Dad, she said, stop this, and tell me what’s going on!

He did not, and before he could grab one more article of clothing, Carli acted and lunged at his bag, throwing it across the room and strewing its contents across the floor.

You’re not going anywhere, she said angrily. Now talk!

Carlos let out a defeated breath. With his shoulders slumped, he turned slowly to face his daughter. Carli could see the sorrow in his eyes and reached out to take his hand.

Daddy, she said softly, just talk to me.

Carlos reached for the edge of the bed and sat down. Carli joined him. With his elbows on his knees and his head hung low, he began by asking for forgiveness.

Oh, sweetheart, he said, I am so sorry.

Sorry for what, Dad? she responded.

Not telling you the truth.

The truth about what?

Eliza and I wanted you to have a different life, a normal life, he continued. We thought it was the right thing to do, but we were wrong.

Dad, what are you talking about? You’re not making sense, she said. A different life? Wrong about what?

Eliza ran from responsibility, a responsibility that affected many. These same people were in a struggle, at times literally fighting for their lives. Nobody can force their will against what has already been decided, he said cryptically. We tried and paid a heavy price.

Carli listened intently, trying to comprehend what she was hearing, but then lost all interest when she saw the tears streaming down her father’s cheeks. The last time she had seen him cry had been directly after her mother’s death.

Oh, Dad, she said, trying to comfort him while desperately keeping her own tears at bay. It’s OK.

Carlos found himself in a state he no longer wanted her to see. He took a deep breath, gathered himself, stood up, and began to finish what he had started.

I’ve said too much; it wasn’t my place, he said matter-of-factly. I have to go away for a while.

I’m not really sure what you mean, she said, standing and gesturing to move, but I’m ready to go anywhere you go.

Carlos turned abruptly, grabbing Carli by the shoulders. No! he said. You will not! This is where you belong…this is where you are safe.

Safe from what! she said, pulling away.

Please Carli, don’t make this harder than it already is.

Daddy—she began to cry—please don’t leave me; I don’t want to be alone. She begged, Take me with you. I’ll change. Whatever I’ve done, I promise I won’t do it again That Carlos could not allow, and he hugged her deeply, wiped away her tears, and gently brushed her hair away from her brown eyes with his fingers.

Oh, princess, he said lovingly, you could do no wrong. You are the gift that we had always hoped for and a dream that came true. Leaving you is the last thing I want to do, but there is something I must finish.

These words rang hollow for Carli, who began to sob on the edge of the bed.

Carlos made his way to leave but stopped at the door. He turned, then headed into the room’s large closet, where a safe lay hidden within the wall. He unlocked it, then pulled out a box and brought it forth. Standing before Carli, he placed it beside her.

Princess, he said, what lies inside was your mother’s, and now it’s yours. It has been a part of your family for many, many generations. It can bring you strength. It is very important. Keep it safe until I return.

He kissed her cheek and left.

Carli remained in the same spot, sobbing heavily. Then she realized she was alone. She ran after her father, only to find that he was long gone.

W

hat had once been closed was now open. Carli tensed every fiber within her and dug her nails into Sabeera to suppress the emotional stream wanting to rush out in a torrent.

Breathe, Carli, breathe; don’t give in. The breakdown did not come.

Hmmm, Mom and Dad wanted me to be different and to have a normal life. I also remember something about a fight they had been in and that it had been going on for a long time, she said as she desperately tried to remember. Dad also said that Mom hadn’t wanted to keep up with her responsibilities.

Carli hesitated. What else, Carli? C’mon, concentrate, she said, in deep thought. Mom…she was hiding who she was. People were getting hurt because of it.

An epiphany!

Mom’s travels—they had nothing to do with work; they had to do with her position and her responsibility to the people in the struggle. Another notion hit her. The people at her wake—they must have been involved in that struggle.

The last thought struck her heart. Mom’s death…maybe it had something to do with that conflict?

Oh my God! she said, startled. Dad left me to finish what Mom had started.

She had begun with the idea of learning something valuable, something that would help her understand what was happening to her. She had decoded the riddle to some extent and connected some more dots, but other issues lingered.

There were now two certainties. One