 
**The Garnet Trilogy**

**By Willa Jemhart**

**Book 1: Sketch of Secrets**

**Copyright 2012 Willa Jemhart**

**Published by Willa Jemhart at Smashwords**

**This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters and events are the product of the author`s imagination and are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to persons living or dead, or actual events is entirely coincidental.**

Smashwords Edition, License Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you're reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

CHAPTER ONE

She stepped out of the front door of her high school, shading her eyes from the blast of bright prairie sunlight. Her hand reached into her purse to retrieve her sunglasses which she hastily shoved onto her face. Martie Johnson's chest filled with anticipation. Not only was this the last day of school, but it was also her 17th birthday. She could barely wait to find out what her mother's surprise would be this year.

She skipped down the smoldering cement steps while fishing her cell phone from her bag. Powering it up, she moved into the shade of a nearby tree. Friends passed by with wishes of a happy birthday or a good summer vacation, before bustling on to their own two months of freedom from teachers and homework. Martie gave them each a smile and a thank you, and passed on return well wishes.

But what she really wanted was to know what this year's birthday surprise would be. Her mother was a master at coming up with the greatest ideas. She worked as a receptionist at a travel agency, and therefore had taken Martie on a number of great trips. She would never let on where they were going, saying only that she needed to pack. Last year, for her 16th, the surprise had been helping her with the purchase of a car. Martie had managed to save one thousand dollars and her mother matched that amount. They spent the following Saturday car shopping. She had eventually settled on a little red Toyota. It was old, with dots of rust here and there, but it was in good running order, and best of all, it gave her a sense of independence. Last birthday's surprise was going to be hard to beat.

Her phone, having found a signal, beeped, indicating there were messages waiting. The first was as expected - a text from her mom. Martie grinned eagerly as she opened it.

I love you with all my heart. Never forget that. Do what Fran says.

A small snicker escaped her mouth. Fran was her mother's closest friend, and obviously she had enlisted her help this year. Her mother was outdoing herself, and the fun and mystery of this game of surprise had Martie's insides bubbling over. She scrolled to the next message. It had been sent only five minutes after her mother's. As expected, it was from Fran.

Martie, DO NOT go home. Come straight to my house. HURRY!

A couple of passers-by gave her sidelong glances as Martie squealed with glee while sprinting to her car. Her mother had never involved Fran before, so she was certain this year's gift was going to be something great. They were by no means wealthy, but her mother always came up with the perfect gifts.

The short drive from J Brooks High to Fran's house was impossibly long. Though the traffic was light, it moved in slow motion. Pedestrians had to cross at every single crosswalk she neared, and the traffic lights turned red just in time for her approach. Her fingers drummed frantically on the wheel, and her bottom lip became sore with chew marks. When she finally pulled into the driveway of the small white house where Fran lived, she was afraid she was going to spontaneously combust.

The second she put her car in park, Fran flew from the house, opened the car door, and grabbed her by the hand to pull her out. As Martie tripped along, trying to keep up with Fran she thought how great it was that Fran was totally getting into this too. It was an awkward maneuver to pull her mini jean skirt down properly while being yanked up the few steps and into the front door. She laughed out loud. What could it be? What had Mom and Fran done?

Fran immediately slammed the door shut and turned to Martie. Her usual tanned face was pale and she looked sick. Martie's smile vanished as she looked into Fran's swollen blue eyes. She had obviously been crying.

She trembled as she released her grip on Martie.

"What's wrong?" Martie asked.

Before Fran could respond, her seven year old daughter skipped into the entryway and grabbed Martie around the waist, hugging her hard. Martie had a soft spot for the cute little girl with big blue eyes and wavy dark brown hair that never looked freshly brushed.

"Hi Ainsley," she said affectionately as she ruffled her hair. Martie was aware that Ainsley idolized her, and she welcomed the admiration because she never had a little sister of her own. In fact, she had no siblings, but always wished she had.

"Ains," said Fran a little too sternly. "Can you please go downstairs and watch T.V. I need to talk to Martie alone."

"Okay," Ainsley pouted and looked up at Martie with grumpy eyes, hoping her hero would come to her rescue. But Martie couldn't this time.

"I'll hang out with you another time," she promised. Clearly not happy with the rejection, she released her hold on Martie and slowly shuffled away.

Martie turned back to Fran with eyebrows raised and lips parted.

Fran was clearly not her usual self. Her make-up was smudged and her clothes were disheveled. She ran a quick hand through her own messy dark brown hair before taking Martie's hand again to lead her to the living room, where she gestured for her to sit beside her on the couch. She then grabbed her other hand and faced her with a wild eyes. "It's your mom Martie," she blurted. The worry glistened in her eyes.

Martie swallowed, trying to gauge what was happening. Surely her mom wouldn't get this elaborate to surprise her. She examined Fran's distraught face carefully, and decided there was no way this could be a game. Fran was incapable of keeping a straight face. She was the type of person who started giggling long before the punch line when telling a joke. No, Martie decided that whatever was going on, she needed to take it seriously.

"She's gone," continued Fran. "She called me about forty-five minutes ago. Told me to get you here. You're not to go home. Do you understand?"

"Yes. Um, no. I don't understand. What do you mean she's gone? Gone where?"

"All she said was that they found her. And they are taking her back. She didn't know what they would do to you, or if they would do anything at all. She said it's best for you to just not go home."

Martie's face twisted in confusion. "They? Who are 'they'?"

Fran paled to an even whiter shade. "You don't know?" she asked.

"Know what?" Martie's voice had risen and her face began to flush. She suddenly felt a little light-headed.

Fran dropped her head, but quickly raised sad eyes back up to gaze at Martie. This time when she spoke, her voice was no longer frantic. It was almost a whisper. "I don't know. She would never tell me. But I always assumed she would have told you."

Martie stood and threw her arms up in the air. She shook her head as she marched to the other side of the coffee table. Her fingers began to rub her temples, attempting to block an emerging headache. She wasn't sure if she should be mad or terrified. Fran remained on the couch with her elbows on her knees and her head in her hands.

"Fran," Martie begin, trying to keep herself together. She spoke slowly and decisively. "What exactly is it that you think she would have told me?"

Fran took a deep breath and ripped her fingers through her hair. Her eyes were wide with fear when she looked up at Martie. "About her past," she breathed.

Martie furrowed her brow, shaking her head. This wasn't making any sense. Her mom was gone. 'They' came to take her back - whoever 'they' were - and wherever 'back' was. If her mother had a dark or strange past, she knew nothing about it. For a brief moment, she decided this was all just a big weird misunderstanding.

She took out her phone and dialed her mom's number, but it just rang and rang. Her voice message didn't even come on. Frustrated, she slammed the phone onto the end table.

Fran sat speechless for a moment, staring at Martie, and Martie reflected the same back. Suddenly Fran rose from the couch and scurried out of the room.

Martie began pacing back and forth in the small living room, trying to sort out what Fran was telling her. It occurred to her then that this might have something to do with her father. He was the only mysterious thing about her mom's past that she could think of. Her mother was always very vague about him. He'd remained a mystery to Martie her entire life. There was only one picture of him; a tiny one of him with her mom. It was pasted inside a gold heart-shaped locket her mother wore on a chain around her neck. For the first part of Martie's life, her mother never took the locket off. But the photo was so tiny that the only clear feature of her father was that he had sandy colored hair.

Martie had asked about him over the years. The facts about him that her mom had been willing to share amounted to very little. His name was Martin Jones. Martie was named after him. Her mother referred to him as a good man. He loved her mother dearly and was elated they were going to have a child, but he had to leave before Martie was born. Her mother would never tell her why, saying that it was complicated, and he had no choice. To Martie's knowledge, the two of them hadn't been in touch since.

When she was younger, Martie would imagine that her father was some sort of important secret agent, travelling the globe on special assignments that ensured the safety of the world. She would often make up stories about these missions and share them with her friends. They would listen wide-eyed and think that it was all very cool.

But as she grew up her opinion of him started to change. From time to time Martie would see her mother lying on her bed holding the locket and crying. Eventually she took it off, and Martie never saw the locket again. She began to wonder what kind of a man would just leave like that. He had a beautiful, kind woman, who obviously loved him, and at the time when he left, he had a new baby on the way. What could be more important than that? No longer in Martie's mind was he a mysterious hero. In fact she grew to have a small hatred for the man who, the way she saw it, chose to remain out of her life. Her mother always got very defensive when she spoke badly about him. She would say he loved her and that he didn't want to leave, but he had to. That's all she would say. She refused to give any sort of explanation. Martie couldn't lie to herself. The mystery surrounding her father had always bothered her, and now she couldn't help but wonder if he had something to do with what was going on now.

Fran abruptly stopped Martie's ponderous pacing by standing in front of her with a black duffel bag. "Here," she said, holding it out for her.

"What's this?" Martie asked, but left Fran holding the bag.

"I've been keeping this here for your mom for years now. She told me there might come a day when the two of you would have to leave suddenly. She said if that day ever came she wanted to be prepared - that she would have to grab this bag and just go." Her pale blue eyes welled up. "She said if that ever happened, I would never see the two of you again." Slow beads of moisture were trickling down her cheeks now.

Martie's eyes curiously scanned the bag. She didn't recognize it.

Fran's sobs became loud as she struggled to continue. "I never really believed Maggie would ever come for this bag and take the two of you away." She sniffled. "But this is worse. Much worse!"

Martie's eyes grew round and she gave herself a mental slap for not thinking of it sooner. She darted around Fran, making a dash for her phone on the end table, "The police! We need to call the police."

"No," Fran wailed as she ran to Martie and snatched the phone from her hand. "No police. I promised your mom."

Martie glared at her incredulously, shaking her head in disbelief, her face full of unanswered questions that Fran seemed to have no answers for. Fran's eyes softened. She handed the phone back to her and said, "I'm sorry."

Martie sat down on the couch with a sigh. "But why? I don't understand. I don't understand any of this."

Fran joined her again on the couch, sitting close. She pulled Martie into a hug, crying softly, restraining her sobs. Martie's forehead was pressed against her cheek and she could feel the moisture of Fran's fresh tears. "I don't understand either. I just don't know Martie. I tried to get more information from her, but she wouldn't budge on it." Fran took a moment to compose herself before continuing. She looked deeply into Martie's eyes, as if assessing whether or not to continue. "I questioned her about it many times. Witness protection? Or I thought maybe she took you and ran from an abusive relationship..."

"And?"

"She assured me it was nothing like that. She told me again and again that she couldn't talk about it. You have to understand, I love your mom. She's like a sister to me, and so I had to respect her privacy. For whatever reason, she couldn't share her past with me, and I learned to live with that. And I never believed anything like this would actually happen."

They sat there for an eternity, lost in their own thoughts. The faint sound of a cartoon show drifted up from the basement as Fran sat crying soundlessly. Martie was in a state of stunned shock, her mind going in a million different directions.

Eventually the silence was broken by Fran. "You're welcome to stay here for as long as you need...as long as you want. I wish I had some advice for you. I'm so sorry Martie. I'll do whatever I can to help." She'd been gripping the duffel bag the whole time. She looked at it like she was saying good-bye to an old friend, and gently placed it on Martie's lap.

"What's in it?" she asked.

"I don't know. I never asked, and I never looked." Fran smiled in a motherly sort of way. Martie was aware that her heart was breaking for her, as Fran gently brushed some hair away from her eyes. "Why don't you settle into the guest room? Take the bag." She gestured at it with a tilt of her head. "Maybe there are some answers in there."

Five minutes later Martie was sitting on the bed in Fran's small guest room with the bag laying in front of her. The long zipper on the top sagged slightly at each end, giving the impression of a malevolent grin daring her to peek inside.

Martie stared at it, hesitating. While she was curious, she wondered if she might be on the verge of learning things about her mother that she didn't really want to know. How bad could her past be? Thousands of possibilities whirred through her mind, none of which were good.

Her heart was thumping against her ribs. She reprimanded herself for thinking poorly of her mother. Maggie was a good, honest, hard-working person, she reminded herself. She sucked in a big shaky breath of air and unzipped the bag. Exhaling, she turned it upside down and dumped the contents onto the bed. Then she sat staring in disbelief.

Lying in front of her on the bed was money - and not just a few dollars. It was more cash than her eyes had ever seen before. Stacks of bills neatly piled and secured with rubber bands; both Canadian and U.S. currency. There were mostly hundreds and twenties, with a few stacks of fifties. There must have been at least fifty thousand dollars staring her in the face. The first thought that ran through her head was, holy shit! Did Mom rob a bank? Or worse, did she steal this from someone? A drug lord, a powerful millionaire? Her mind became a mess with overactive imagination.

Martie had to make a conscious effort to calm her shaking hands. She reminded herself again of her mother's good nature. She told herself that Maggie wouldn't be involved in anything illegal. It simply didn't fit with the kind of person she was. But there had to be thousands of dollars there. She couldn't imagine where it might have come from.

Her eyes scanned over the pile; the green, the brown, the red, the pictures, numbers and faces together reeled in her head, making her dizzy. Then her eyes focussed on something that was out of place. She spied the corner of a neatly folded piece of paper poking out from under one of the piles.

She plucked it out carefully, unfolding it to reveal a beautiful charcoal sketch. Unfortunately the paper had been folded too many times and for far too long, creating ugly lines and smudges across the sketched face. But it was still blatantly obvious who the person in the drawing was. It was her mother; she guessed she had been in her twenties at the time it was drawn. The sketch accurately depicted her mother's large curious eyes, and showed her with lips slightly parted, as if she was about to give all her secrets away. A title across the top read 'Magda'. Martie squinted, wondering what that could mean. It sounded like a name to her. But her mother's name was Maggie. Martie had seen her mother's various pieces of identification and they all stated that her given name was Maggie. In the bottom right hand corner of the sketch were the initials M.J. in fancy script. Her mother's initials were M.J, but then again so were her father's. She had a hazy memory of her mom telling her that her dad was an artist. Studying the picture one more time, she concluded that he must have drawn the portrait.

She turned her attention back to the bag, and wanting to make sure nothing was missed, felt around inside it. Her fingers located an interior zipper pocket on one side. She opened it to find a single piece of note paper. Turning it over, she found writing on one side that she immediately recognized as her mother's. _Larzel - 5325 Treeridge Lane, Calgary, AB._

It was a name that Martie had never heard before, and she couldn't recall her mother knowing anyone who lived in Calgary. She wondered if this Larzel person could give her some answers. The thought even occurred that he might know her father. Or stranger yet, maybe he was her father.

She had just finished stuffing all the cash and papers back into the duffle bag when there was a small knock at the door.

"Martie, can I come in?" asked a squeaky little voice.

She quickly zipped up the bag and let Ainsley know that she could come in. She happily skipped through the door and bounded up onto the bed beside Martie. Fran appeared in the doorway. "Ains, leave Martie alone," she scolded.

"It's okay." Martie smiled at Ainsley and gave the top of her head a ruffle. "I'd love to hang out with her for a while."

Fran nodded and walked away.

Sensing that something unusual was going on, the little girl asked, "Is everything okay?"

"No everything is not okay," Martie snapped teasingly. Ainsley looked at her with scared little eyes. "I haven't given you a make-over in forever," Martie announced.

She giggled with glee, and then looked at Martie with all the seriousness in the world.

"Martie, can you make me as pretty as you?"

She pulled her little friend close and smiled. "You're already prettier. Now let's do your hair."

Fran and her husband Bryce were like family to Martie. Between attending family barbeques over the years and babysitting Ainsley, it felt like a second home to her. She wished she could go to her house to get some clothes and other personal items, but Fran had forbidden it. Thankfully Fran was able to find a spare toothbrush and loaned Martie a nightshirt.

Sleep was a long time coming that night. Her restless mind swirled in vicious circles of unanswered questions. Where was her mother? Was she safe? Who were 'they'? It occurred to Martie that she had yet to cry over her mother's absence, and for a moment she wished she would. She felt guilty for not being the sobbing mess she thought was appropriate. She dismissed the guilt quickly, realizing the absence of tears was due to the fact that she hadn't completely absorbed the reality of the situation. Part of her was still waiting for her mom to pop out of nowhere and yell 'surprise'. One single drop tracked its way down her cheek. She missed her mother, but could not accept that she was truly gone.

Sleep eventually found her, and when it did, she dreamed about the boy. She had dreamt about him for as long as she could remember. They'd had many adventures together, and he almost always appeared in her dreams at times when she was worried or stressed about something.

He was about her age, and they had grown up together in the world of her unconscious mind. When Martie was little, so was he. When she was a pre-teen so was he, and so on. He had grown into a very good looking dream guy, with brown hair and intense deep brown eyes. His hair was a little long for a guy, but it suited him. He had a great build on a firm lean body that stood at around five foot ten. Martie loved his dazzling smile, which made her feel like she could take on the world, and be the bold person she couldn't be in her waking life. In her mind he was the ultimate candidate to be her boyfriend. That might explain why she didn't date often - no one else could compete with the flawless boy of her imagination.

That night Martie dreamed she was running for her life, and screaming scared. Something or someone was chasing her and closing in fast. She was choking on her own breath and drenched from head to toe in heavy sweat. The boy suddenly appeared in front of her, one arm outstretched, reaching for her. She ran faster when she saw him, but whatever or whoever was after her was getting closer all the time. She couldn't reach the boy. His hand was so close she could feel the warmth of it, but she couldn't quite touch. She picked up her pace again and again, but he was always just barely out of reach. His eyes were narrowed and almost completely black as he stretched his arm further and further toward her. She inched closer, but still just out of reach, the tips of their fingers only a millimeter apart. She turned back to check the distance of her hunters. And when she brought her eyes back to the boy, his face had softened. He was smiling encouragingly with his arm outstretched. His eyes bore into hers and though his lips didn't move, she knew what he was saying. "You can do this. Reach." She forced her body forward with a sudden lurch. They were finally able to clasp hands, and he swiftly pulled her to the safety of his arms. She whipped her head around to face her pursuers, but there was no longer anyone there. The boy's comforting face and soft smile soothed her. "You're safe now." She knew that's what he said, though no words came from his mouth. He pulled her into a tight reassuring embrace. She sighed knowing she was safe in his imaginary arms.

Martie woke up the next morning wet and shivering. Blinking away the sleep in her eyes, it took a moment to remember why she was in Fran's spare bedroom. Without warning, the realization hit her hard. Her mother was gone, and nobody seemed to know where or how to begin looking for her. Uncontrollable guttural sobs erupted as she buried her face into the pillow. Her body shook as she started to wonder if her mother was even still alive. She sat up abruptly and swiped the back of her hand hard across her eyes, forcing herself to stop that line of thought. She couldn't allow herself to think that way. She told herself if her mom was dead she would know it. She would feel it.

She slowly dragged herself out of bed and made her way to the bathroom. The mirror was not kind. Her long blonde hair was a tangled mess and her normally bright green eyes were dull and droopy. She stepped into the shower and stood motionless, letting the water slowly spill life back into her. Yesterday had been the worst birthday ever. Why was this happening?

After she had dried and dressed she felt slightly more human. She walked into the kitchen where Fran immediately handed her a cup of coffee. "How are you feeling?" she asked. Fran picked up her own cup and gripped it tightly in both hands, her smile forced.

Martie sat at the table and stirred some sugar into her coffee, not knowing quite how to respond. She wasn't sure how she felt. Scared? Sick? Worried? Mad? Confused?

Fran, having not received an answer, took a seat across from her best friend's daughter. She examined her for a moment, seeing what Martie knew to be a girl who looked pale and lost. She set her cup down on the table and wrung her hands nervously. "Bryce went by your house early this morning," she told her.

This got Martie's attention and she lifted her head to meet Fran's eyes.

"It's a mess. Stuff thrown all over the place. Drawers and cupboards all opened and emptied. Promise me you won't go there?" she pleaded.

"Was anything taken?" Martie asked.

"Your mom's computer is gone. That's all he noticed, but he didn't stick around long, just in case."

Fran's words helped Martie decide how she was feeling - sick to her stomach. What could anyone want with her mother? She was a secretary at a travel agency - just an average person. None of this made any sense, and she wished there was something she could do. She knew she would go crazy just sitting around waiting and wondering. She had to do something. She had to find her mother. But what could she do? She considered the bag with the money, and the note...

"Do you have a computer I can borrow?" she asked Fran as she rose from the chair.

"Of course," Fran said. "It's in the den."

Half an hour later Martie returned to the kitchen feeling lost and depressed. Fran, who was now dressed and tidying up, saw the drawn look and drooping shoulders and quickly rushed to her side.

"What is it Martie?" She laid a gentle hand on her shoulder.

"There was a name and address in that bag," Martie explained. "For someone in Calgary." Fran prompted her with a nod to continue. "It's Larzel, but I don't know if it's a first name or a last name. It doesn't show up as a last name at all in the phone directory, and I've typed the name into a bunch of different search engines, and there's nothing to go on that makes any sense. It's as if the person doesn't really exist. Have you ever heard my mom mention that name?"

"No I haven't. I'm sorry." She paused, but when Martie said nothing she asked, "What are you going to do?"

Fran watched with concerned silence as Martie walked away from her to the kitchen sink, where she poured herself a glass of cold water. After downing it, she leaned forward against the counter and gazed out the window. It was a beautiful summer day. This was Martie's summer vacation. In fact it was her last summer vacation because in the fall she would be starting grade twelve. She rubbed her eyes wearily. She had so many plans, none of which included wondering where her mother was or why she was taken. The guilt of feeling selfish played on her heart. But her gut told her that her mother must be in danger. Surely she would contact her if she wasn't.

The ping of her cell phone sounded from the kitchen table and a trickle of hope rose in her throat. She rushed to it as Fran clasped her hands together in front of her chest with her own unspoken hope. But Martie's quickened pulse slowed to a dull thud when she saw it was a text from her friend, Becky.

We're going to the mall. You coming? Or are you busy with a fab birthday surprise???

All she wanted was to hang out with her friends. She wanted to tell them all about what had been going on. The need for their ears, their shoulders, and their advice was what she longed for. But her mother didn't want the police involved, so Martie assumed that she probably didn't want anyone else to know either. Know what? This whole situation was so aggravating.

Then in an instant she knew what she had to do. It would mean putting off her friends but for now she had to. She swallowed hard as she realized the enormity of her sudden plan. It was something that was out of character for her; a quiet girl who spent a lot of her time in the background, letting others take the lead, letting others make her decisions for her.

Martie noticed Fran looking at her suspiciously. Her daunting idea must have changed her whole demeanor. Martie was standing up straight, she felt some of the color creep back into her cheeks, and she could have sworn she felt a twinkle in her eye.

She quickly replied to Becky.

Sorry Becks. Can't make it. Birthday surprise is a quick trip to Calgary. Will call when I get back. Hi to everyone. Luv Martie

Fran was still watching her, the unanswered question still lingering on her face. Martie had made a decision, a decision that terrified her. But she knew she had to do it. "I'm going to find Mom," she announced. "I'm going to Alberta."

Fran narrowed her eyes. It was obvious this idea did not sit well with her. She stood and placed her hands on her hips in a classic parental pose. "Oh I don't know," she said. "We don't know anything about this Larzel person. We don't know what your mother is involved in. I think you should stay here until we get more information." Although she used the words 'I think', Martie knew to interpret it as a firm no.

She scoffed. She loved Fran and she respected her, but she was ready to argue her point to the end. She had made her mind up. No matter how fearful she was of setting off on her own to track down her mom, she knew she had to do it. "So I'm just supposed to sit around and wait? From what I can tell, this Larzel person is our only source of information. Please let me go. I have to do this - for Mom, and for me."

Fran bit her upper lip. Martie could see that Fran knew she was right, and had she been in Martie's situation, she would probably have already been on her way to Calgary. "What about money?" she asked. "How can you pay for travelling expenses?"

She wasn't sure why she hadn't mentioned it sooner, but now Martie told her about the stash in the duffel bag. Fran didn't seem the least bit surprised. She knew Maggie as well as Martie did, and they both knew her to be extremely organized and always prepared for anything.

"But Martie...a young girl travelling alone. I just don't think this is a good idea."

Why hadn't she thought of it sooner? "Fran! I don't have to go alone. You could come with me."

Fran shook her head. "Martie, if I could just drop everything and go, I would. You know how much I love your mom. I'm sure she must have mentioned that I'm going to be covering a maternity leave at the travel agency soon. Jen could have her baby any day. I can't just go running off. There's also Ainsley to consider and Bryce has work responsibilities. I'm sorry, but you're on your own with this one."

Martie knew by Fran's words that she wouldn't stop her. And Fran must have known by the resolute look on Martie's face that her decision was firm.

"Okay," Fran sighed, her hands dropping to her sides. Then one hand rose with an outstretched finger in typical parent lecture mode. "But you have to promise me that you'll call every day. I need to know you're safe."

"I promise. If not a phone call, at least a text. Deal?"

With hesitation, she said, "Deal."

CHAPTER TWO

Leaving the comfort and safety of Fran's place was not easy for Martie. Not only was she about to venture into the unknown, but she was doing it completely alone. She didn't relish the idea of travelling into the unknown with no one to lean on. She was afraid of not finding the answers she needed to track down her mother. But even more - she was afraid she might find answers that she didn't want.

Both Fran and Martie had tears in their eyes as they hugged good-bye. In a last ditch effort to keep Martie from going Fran suggested they defy Maggie's orders and call the police. Martie told her she thought it was too late for that. How would they possibly explain to the authorities why they took so long to call them? She again promised to keep in touch on a daily basis.

Martie needed supplies and her curiosity was overwhelming her, so at the end of Fran's street she glanced in the rear-view mirror to check that Fran was no longer in the yard. When she confirmed the coast was clear, she turned left toward her house instead of the right she would have taken. She was there in less than five minutes. Instead of pulling into the driveway she parked across the street a few houses down.

The house itself looked completely normal from the outside. You wouldn't have guessed that the small modern rancher was now unoccupied. Her mother's car was parked in front and the grass and flowers were all in a state of good health. Martie scanned the cars parked on the street in front. They all appeared to be empty leaving her to conclude that no one was watching the place. She sat quietly for a while deciding what to do. Mustering up even more courage than she knew she had, she decided she needed to see the inside of the house for herself.

She started the car and drove around to the back alley to park beside the tall brown fence that framed the back yard. She opened the back gate as quietly as possible and then attempted to make herself blend into the fence, her back flat against it.

She stood like a statue, afraid to even blink. A long time passed, with her heart beating so loud she figured if anyone was inside, they would look out the window to find the source of the booming noise. Seeing no movement in the house, she took a breath and made a dash for the back door. She put her key in the knob and turned it slowly. A tiny click from the lock engaging caused her to freeze. She held her breath while her overactive imagination panicked her with various scenarios.

She waited with her chest expanded full of air. It was hard not to let it go.

She listened. She heard nothing.

She waited longer. She could hear and see no movement of any kind.

She exhaled quietly, slowly, and entered, moving around the house soundlessly. Bryce had been right. The place had been rummaged through. Nothing was broken, but drawers and cupboards were pulled open with their contents haphazardly returned and left dripping out of them. She quietly raced through the house taking a quick inventory. The only obvious missing items were her mother's computer and Martie's laptop. All jewelry and other valuables remained untouched. Her mother's desk drawers had also been completely emptied. This led her to believe someone was looking for information. Documents? Something else? What could her mom possibly have that was that important?

Still nervous that someone might show up, Martie quickly grabbed a suitcase from the closet and began stuffing it with clothes and toiletries. She also grabbed her cell phone charger and the small box that contained the identification she didn't carry with her on a daily basis: birth certificate, passport, health card, etcetera. She had no idea what she might need, or when she might be able to return to the house, so she decided to take it all.

Twenty minutes later Martie was speeding west, out of Regina city limits with a Coke in her cup holder and some take-out fries in her lap. The adrenaline was charging through her. Whatever was going on, she was determined to find answers. Her mother was her only family, and she would do whatever she had to do to find her.

It was a typical hot prairie summer day, with the temperature blazing somewhere in the mid to high thirties. Unfortunately Martie's car didn't have air conditioning, but it did have what she referred to as a wicked stereo. She made sure the windows were down all the way so she could feel the warm wind slapping her hot cheeks. She cranked the volume on her music so the deafening lyrics of her favorite songs would drown out the anxiety of her thoughts.

The glowing sun was bright and shifting west as she neared the Saskatchewan Alberta border. The adrenaline from earlier had waned, leaving her eyes feeling heavy and a dull buzz droning in her brain.

As she plugged along the never ending highway toward the never attainable horizon, her mind started to wander in a direction that she'd been desperately avoiding. What if she wasn't able to find her mother? Or worse, what if she was dead? What would she do without her mom? Where would she go? She wasn't even an adult yet. Her eyes filled. She was becoming flooded with uncertainty. She realized she had no idea what she was doing - maybe looking for her mother was a bad idea. Her mind strayed into further doubt and fear. What if her mother was mixed up with some really bad people? What could Martie possibly do? She was just a kid - a terrified insecure kid.

An overflow of tears flooded down her face. She knew she had to pull herself together or pull over to the side of the road. She sniffed and shifted slightly to glance into the rear-view mirror. As she wiped an eye with the back of her hand she noticed a police car behind her with its lights flashing. Crap!

Her eyes darted to the speedometer to find that she was going twenty kilometers over the limit. Double crap!

Martie pulled over to the shoulder and hastily wiped at her cheeks and eyes. She peeked in the side mirror. She watched as a police officer climbed out of his car and sauntered his way to her door, scrutinizing her car as he came.

"Good evening Miss."

She smiled. "Hi."

"License and registration please."

She took a moment to pull her driver's license from her purse and then dug the registration from the glove box. She handed it to him.

He looked it over and then stared back at her. She guessed he was a little younger than her mother, and though he was smiling in a friendly way, she couldn't help but feel intimidated.

"Where are you off to in such a hurry Miss Johnson?" he asked.

"Calgary."

"And what's in Calgary?"

She paled slightly as dread built inside her, wondering what to tell him. Not wanting to appear suspicious, she blurted out the first thing that popped into her head: "I'm meeting my mom there. She's at my uncle's place."

He eyed her suspiciously, his curious face sweeping the interior of the car.

"Mm-hmm," he said with pursed lips. "Mind if I have a look through your vehicle?" It sounded to her like a trick question, and caused her to sit up straighter.

She wondered if he could do that. Was it was legal? She wasn't sure, so she swallowed and said, "Sure," with an uneasy grin.

Her mind sprinted to the duffel bag full of money in the trunk. She concentrated, hoping to will him to not ask her to open the trunk. She repeated a mantra over and over again in her head - you do not want to look in the trunk - you do not want to look in the trunk...

"Pop the trunk for me please."

No! How was she going to explain having all that cash? Her face flushed and her heart began to thump like wild drums, but she obliged, and then held her breath waiting for the inevitable.

The policeman made his way slowly to the rear of the car, peering into the back seat on his way. A thick bead of sweat dropped off Martie's nose and landed on her bare thigh. She could come up with no plausible explanation as to why a seventeen year old girl would have thousands of dollars in cash stuffed in a bag in her trunk.

Her now dry eyes began to threaten tears again. She tilted her chin up to prevent a torrential downpour.

She jumped when the trunk suddenly slammed shut, and a gasp-like whimper escaped from her. She threw her eyes back to the side mirror. He wasn't carrying the bag. He must not have looked inside it. Martie made a quick mental note - take money from duffel bag and hide it in suitcase.

He was back at her window. "I don't understand Miss," he said, a knot in his brow. "How could a mother allow her teenage daughter to travel that distance all alone?"

She looked up at him, and his expression softened when he saw her anguished face.

"It's a family emergency," she explained. It wasn't a lie, which was good. She didn't know if she could live with herself knowing she'd lied to a cop. "I'm meeting her there."

He seemed to accept this and returned her identification. "Well, you'll get there a lot safer if you slow down, okay?"

"Yes sir. Thank you."

She watched as he returned to his car, shut the flashing lights off and pulled away. Now that she was alone, she lost all composure.

A river of fresh salty tears rushed down her face, splashing warm droplets onto her legs. She was unable to breathe properly, sobbing in short hiccupping inhales only. Reality had finally and truly hit. Her mom had disappeared without a word or a clue. Everything about the disappearance was engulfed in secrecy and Martie felt angry and betrayed that her mother didn't trust her enough to share her secrets with her. Had she opened up, Martie felt she would be better prepared for whatever it was that was now happening.

Yes, she was mad. But when it came right down to it, she was more scared than anything else - really, really scared. She felt like a lost tot and all she wanted was her mommy.

The sun was glowing orange on the western horizon as Martie entered Medicine Hat. Her plan had been to make it to Calgary that night, but her eyes were dry and sore, and she felt burned out. She could go no further that night.

The comfort and security of a number of big chain hotels beckoned to her, but she was afraid to even attempt to get a room at one of them. Although she was only a year away from being officially considered an adult, she had the sinking feeling that she would be denied a key to any of their rooms. She had only been to Medicine Hat once before when she was younger, so she didn't know her way around. It took half an hour to find a small out-of-the-way motel appropriately named 'The Last Resort'.

After stuffing some bills from the duffel bag into her purse, she entered the lobby and looked around. The décor was obviously from before her time - before her mom's time even - with a pukey green and yellow carpet dotted with decades of stains. There was an old couch in one corner, and a black and white TV snowily droned on beside it. The old musty smell in the air reminded her of a friend's basement that they used to pretend was haunted.

She took a gulp of stale air and stalked past the out-of-order pop and cigarette machines toward a rough looking old guy behind the desk. He looked up at her with a raised eyebrow and a knowing smirk.

"How much for a room for the night?" she asked as pleasantly as possible.

He snorted with a half grin. "Fifty bucks and some ID showing me you're eighteen."

A lot of people had told Martie that she looked old for her age, but the recent crying and her messy hair must have decreased her look by a year or two. But she needed a room, and she had money. She wasn't too naïve to realize that money could have a magical power, especially against a person like the one seated behind the desk.

She propped both elbows on the desk and looked him right in the eye. "How about a hundred and fifty for the night with no questions asked?"

He met her glare. "Yeah?" he said with a challenge in his eye. He was obviously enjoying bartering with a pretty young girl.

She reached into her purse and pulled out a one hundred dollar bill and one fifty. She waved it in front of his face, and with a smirk of her own, said, "Yeah."

His eyes grew big as he snatched the cash from her hand. He reached under the desk and pulled out a key. "Room 15," he said. "But there better be no trouble and you're out by ten in the morning."

She took the key from his big hairy hand, turned abruptly away, and proceeded to walk to the door with her head held high. A little victory bubble formed inside as Martie thought, I like having money...

The room was a small version of the lobby. It smelled bad and it was ugly. But Martie didn't care. It was better than sleeping in the car.

After eating the sandwiches that Fran had packed, and rearranging the contents of her suitcase to hide the money behind a panel in the bottom, she gave Fran a quick call to let her know she was all right.

A quick shower washed away some of the stresses of the day and she settled into the sagging bed. The blanket must have been manufactured in 1920, but the sheets were fairly new and they felt crisp. Exhausted, it didn't take long for her to slip into a deep sleep.

She dreamed of the boy again.

They were sitting at the top of a cliff beside a small shrub, with their feet dangling over the edge. It was a sheer fifty foot plus drop to the ground below, but they were not afraid. They were holding hands and contentedly watching the world in the distance.

Not far beyond the rocks and growth at the bottom of the cliff, a sparkling stream twinkled in the fluorescent orange sunlight. Far in the distance was a beautiful city. It was a city like neither of them had ever seen before, with tall reflective glass buildings, and low structures in shades of muted blues and greys. The roof of every building was covered in what looked to be solar panels, and throughout the entire city were tall poles with windmill like propellers on the tops. They looked like they too might be an energy source. There was no traffic, and no billboards, and no neon signs. In fact there were no signs at all. Tiny dots of people meandered here and there at a leisurely pace. On one side of the city a large garden area sat, filled with grass, trees, flowers and ponds. The perfection and beauty of it were so breathtaking that Martie could almost smell the scent of the multi-faceted vegetation being carried to her on the breeze. She couldn't help but think that if Heaven existed, it would look exactly like that.

She turned to look at the boy, and as with every dream she'd ever had of him, they did not speak. They communicated by thought alone. His smile was warm and his eyes were filled with joy. She knew that he was saying, "It's beautiful."

She smiled back and leaned in closer so her head could rest on his shoulder. "It feels like home," she told him silently. He put his arm around her and propped his head on hers. They had not a care in the world and felt nothing but peace and calm and happiness.

Suddenly a man appeared behind them, telling them they had to leave. He told them they didn't belong there. They must leave and never come back.

Martie and the boy stood, still hand in hand, to confront him - to tell him that they were happy here and they didn't want to go.

The man was obviously a person of authority. They could see it in his face and in his posture. He was a rule enforcer and was not used to being defied. The boy stepped forward to introduce himself and to shake his hand, but the man shouted at him.

Martie was horrified by what happened next. She had no way of seeing it coming. She was expecting to have the chance to plead their case, to tell him that they were so happy here, that they belonged here, but this horrible man quickly raised his hand and in one swift motion pushed the boy backward.

The boy was falling off the cliff in slow motion; his arms flailing horridly, his face contorted in shock and fear. His eyes were reaching for her, pleading...

And for the first time ever she heard his voice: "Nooooooooooo!"

She woke up panting hard with her nightshirt drenched in sweat.

CHAPTER THREE

Martie's drive to Calgary the next day was excruciatingly long. Driving along a prairie highway, trying to make it as far as the horizon, felt like an unending task. The waves of distant mountains were beyond her destination, so they gave her no encouragement. No longer did she feel the optimism and adrenaline from when she first set out. She was discouraged and worried the entire trip might be for nothing. Her legs were constantly cramping, making for frequent stops to stretch.

She finally made it to the outskirts of the big city by mid-afternoon. She found a tourist info-center where she stopped for a bathroom break and to pick up a city map. The overly cheerful lady working at the center was very helpful, pointing out on the map where the street was that she needed to get to. Martie felt another setback when she realized Treeridge Lane was on the opposite side of the city from where she was. The lady noticed the disheartened look on her face and smiled happily, ready to help.

On the map she outlined two possible routes, each with a different colored highlighter. The first would take Martie directly through the city, which she explained would be the fastest way to go, provided there was no traffic congestion anywhere. The second route kept to the outer edges of the city, and though it would be much longer, Martie decided it was the best way to go. Not only did she feel intimidated driving in a big, busy unfamiliar city, she was suddenly in no hurry.

Martie had a big bag of sunflower seeds to keep her company and help pass the time. She nervously nibbled and spit out the window as she carefully followed streets and roads outlined in pink on the map. She was taking her time. Now that she was closing in on the address and the mysterious Larzel person, she needed to figure out what to say. She had to be prepared for anything, as she had no idea what she might find behind the door of this address. Larzel could be a hit man for the mob for all she knew. Although the day was warm, a shiver ran up her back and invaded her scalp.

Treeridge Lane was a pretty street. It had an old fashioned feel to it, with every flat-fronted two story house being identical other than the color. A porch spanned the entire width of the front of each house. There were huge shade trees sporadically placed, some with kids sitting in them, and some with kids swinging on a rope or tire attached to a branch. Children riding bikes and running through sprinklers gave the neighborhood the feel that it had been a great place to grow up for many years.

Martie found the number on a house that was painted dark blue, and she parked in front of it. She noticed her hands were slightly shaking so she took a few deep breaths to calm herself.

Clutching the note paper with the name and address on it tightly in her hand, she ascended the porch steps very slowly. She cleared her throat as she pushed the doorbell button. A few seconds later the sound of shoes clicking hard wood could be heard growing louder as they made their way toward the front door. It opened to reveal a very tall, scantily clad woman whose cleavage spilled about grotesquely right at Martie's eye level.

She forced herself to look up and found a big fake smile planted behind bright pink lipstick. The woman tilted her head as if to say, "Well?"

"I'm sorry to bother you," Martie said shakily, "I'm hoping to speak to Larzel."

"Who?"

She looked down to the paper in her hands and then back up to the woman's face. "Larzel. This is the address I have for him."

"I'm sorry," she said, "There is no one here by that name."

Not knowing what else to do, Martie held up the note paper for her to see. She peered at it quickly and shook her head. "Nope. Not here."

Martie was momentarily speechless. This couldn't be it, she thought. It had never even occurred to her that Larzel might no longer be at this address. But who knew how long ago the name and address had been scribbled on the paper? She'd come all this way - scared and alone -she deserved some answers. She needed _something_ to go on.

"What about before you moved in?" she asked. "Is this the name of the person who lived here before you?"

"Well I'd have no way of knowing that," the painted lips snapped. She shrugged and looked past Martie.

Martie dropped her shoulders and looked to the ground. Unsure of what to say next, she glanced up at the woman with big eyes. Surely this person would have a suggestion of some kind for her. "Sorry," was all she said, and slowly closed the door, leaving Martie standing there feeling lost and alone.

She walked back to the car with her head hung in defeat. What a big fat waste of time that had been.

Martie sat in her car for the longest time. She was numb; dead inside. So much so that even tears would not come. She was a lost seventeen year old girl, without a father, without a mother, and nowhere to go.

She spent some time dazedly watching the neighborhood kids play. They all looked so happy and carefree. She imagined their mothers in their houses preparing supper while they watched their children through the kitchen window. Their lives were normal. She thought her life was normal too. So she grew up without a father - lots of people did. But other than that, everything was perfectly ordinary. She had been wrong. There was something truly unusual in her mother's past, and for some reason that Martie couldn't understand, she had chosen not to share it with her only child.

She picked up her phone and dialed her mother's cell number. After two rings the annoying message chanted to her, "We are sorry. The number you are trying to reach is no longer in service. Please hang up and..."

"Argh!"

She phoned Fran. She could hear in her voice that she was both saddened and relieved by Martie's bad news. Fran had been afraid of what she might find in this Larzel person. She instructed Martie to come home; that they would get it all sorted out and figure out what to do once she was back in Regina.

For some inexplicable reason though, Martie didn't want to go home. She didn't know a soul in Calgary and the city was just one big unfamiliar maze to her. But she felt a pull to stay there. She knew Fran was right, that she should return immediately. She thought perhaps her hesitation to return might be because going back meant having to face the truth - that she no longer had any family.

"Fran, I'm exhausted. I'm going to find a place to stay tonight and get some rest. I'll head for home first thing in the morning, okay?"

"Okay. Be safe," she said. "And please call if you need anything. Even if you just need someone to talk to."

"I will. Thanks."

Martie set the phone down on the passenger seat and leaned against the head rest. She wasn't sure what to do next, or where to go. She closed her eyes and before she knew it she had dozed off.

It was only a quick nap, but it was long enough to dream about the boy again.

This time he was smiling fondly at her, his deep eyes burning with devotion, and without words was saying, "You're not alone. Never alone." He pulled her close and she nuzzled her head into his firm chest. She was aware that she was dreaming, but like in all her dreams of him, was unable to control any aspect of it. She couldn't decide what would happen, or even what to say to him. It just happened like a scripted play. But she did wish that she would never wake up. She felt safe and comfortable there with him, with his arms wrapped tightly around her.

All too soon the dream was over. It was now late afternoon and Martie's stomach reminded her that she hadn't eaten since that morning, so she drove away from Treeridge Lane in search of a fast food restaurant. What she needed was a large order of fries. Not only could she eat them for every meal, but they were like a comfort food for her, and at that moment she was in dire need of a good dose of comfort.

Martie was sitting against the far wall of the fast food burger joint and had just popped the last of her fries in her mouth. The loud cursing from her stomach had stopped and she was feeling a little better. As she sucked a large amount of Coke through her straw, her eyes strayed to the left, scanning the other people seated in the restaurant. She had the sensation that someone was watching her. Her search located the stare coming from a table on the far wall opposite her. Her lips immediately released the straw, her eyes widened in shock and her heart rose up to her throat.

There staring at her with a mirrored expression was the boy - the boy who had been in her dreams her entire life!

She blinked hard, scrunching up her face, and then looked again. She wondered if she was dreaming. But when she opened her eyes she found that he was still there. No, this was definitely not a dream. She sat there ogling, unable to tear her eyes away.

His elbows were propped on the table with both hands holding a burger as if ready to bite into it. His mouth was hanging open and his eyes were incredulous.

Her body was no longer accepting signals from her brain, and though she didn't want to, she smiled at him. She couldn't help herself. It was an automatic reaction. Suddenly feeling self-conscious, she quickly looked away. The rational side of her was screaming THIS IS JUST A COINCIDENCE. He's not real. He's a figment of your imagination. But, wow, he sure looked a lot like Dream Guy. No - exactly like him.

Now that her brain had resumed regular function, she decided that being alone in a big city, talking to strangers was definitely not a good idea - no matter how good looking the stranger was. She stood up and began gathering her garbage on the tray. It was best to just leave. She needed to find a place to stay and...

"Is it really you?" he asked quietly, like a whisper in her ear.

She turned her gaze back to where he was sitting. Her eyes grew round in surprise as she looked curiously at him way over on the other side of the room. How could she have heard that?

"It is you, isn't it?" he said a little bit louder this time. He was looking right at her, but his mouth hadn't moved.

She nodded before she could stop herself, again an automatic reaction. Unsure of how to react to the peculiar situation, Martie looked around to see if anyone else was witnessing the strange exchange between them. She was relieved to find all the other patrons seemed oblivious to it. His friend, sitting across from him, was looking back and forth between the two of them, and grinning like an idiot. She could imagine that he was rooting for his buddy to pick up the blonde chick across the room.

Feeling flustered, and not wanting to be part of some male ego contest, she threw her purse onto her shoulder, picked up her tray and walked to the garbage can. It couldn't really be him anyway. This was just a huge coincidence. That's all.

"Hi." He was standing right beside her when he said it, and she jumped.

"Hi," she said back, shyly. He had a goofy grin on his face and she could feel her cheeks warm with natural blush.

"Are you okay? You look a little stressed."

"Um, well, I guess I am," she squeaked as she emptied the contents of her tray into the garbage.

He was so close to her she could feel the warmth from his body radiating toward her. Suddenly feeling daring, she turned and looked carefully up at him. He was cute. No, gorgeous actually. He definitely looked identical to the boy from her imagination. The only difference was in her dreams everything was always a bit out of focus and slightly distorted. But she could see every little wave in this boy's chestnut brown hair, and she could see how deep brown his eyes were. They were so dark, in fact, that it was hard to distinguish where his pupils ended and his irises began. She could see the light dusting of freckles that ran across the bridge of his nose and the small line that formed on the outer edge of his left cheek as he half smiled.

She swallowed, suddenly feeling weak in the knees. "Did you ask me something when you were sitting at your table?"

He nodded and his half smile grew to a full brilliant one. "I asked if it was really you."

"What did you mean by that?"

Now it was his turn to study her face. She could barely breathe as his eyes methodically scanned. "You're even prettier in real life," he whispered as he reached out to gently touch the strand of hair that was sitting on her shoulder. Self-consciousness overtook her again as she remembered that she had recently been crying and that she hadn't even brushed her hair since that morning. It was just her luck to be looking like crap at the very moment she meets the boy of her dreams.

She was having a hard time believing this was actually happening. He was gazing into her eyes so intensely that she could feel herself getting sucked into his beautiful, dreamy stare. Taking a deep breath, she stepped back, forcing him to drop his hand to his side. In her heart she wanted it to be him, but her common sense was winning the battle and telling her that she was being naïve - that this was real life and not a movie.

His face softened and she relaxed somewhat. "I know it's you," he said, his eyes burning into hers.

"How?"

"Because when I spoke to you, I didn't say it out loud." He searched her face for acknowledgement, but all she could manage was to bite her lip. Then he gave her the proof they both already knew to be true. "And when I asked if it was you, you nodded, so I know you heard me speak to you in your head."

Something came alive inside her, fluttering and dancing every which way. He was right. She didn't know what it all meant, but he was right. She smiled. He had always been a positive force in her dreams, so she needed to trust in that, and believe that he would be just as noble in real life. "Yes, it's really me."

He grabbed both her hands and his face lit up with a huge grin. "Just a minute okay? Don't go anywhere." He rushed off to the table his friend was at and said something quickly to him. Then he grabbed his untouched burger and drink and hurried back to Martie.

Taking her hand in his free hand, he said, "Let's go," and pulled her out to the parking lot. Her heart had transformed into a little bird fluttering lightly in her chest and her legs had turned to long shaky sticks. She wondered what was happening, how it was possible. She hoped she would soon find out.

In Martie's car, he gave intermittent directions while eating his burger. Aside from that and exchanging first names, they didn't talk. His name was Trew. She liked it. It seemed somehow appropriate.

Ten minutes later they pulled into a parking lot beside a large grassy field. The sun had gone down and only the dim light at the top of a pole illuminated a nearby playground. In the background was a large dark building that resembled a school. Trew confirmed this by telling her it was the school he had just graduated from.

They got out of the car and Martie took in the familiar scent of freshly mowed grass. Trew led her by the hand to the playground where they climbed to the top of the apparatus and sat down on the wooden platform with their legs hanging over the edge. They sat there silently, holding hands and trying to get a feel for each other, when Martie was hit by deja vu. She took in a sharp breath as it dawned on her that they were sitting just like they were in that dream she had of him. But her excited expression dropped when she remembered in the dream they were high up on a cliff and he had ended up getting pushed off.

They sat in silence for a long time, but surprisingly it didn't feel awkward. They were totally at ease and comfortable with each other. Martie had so many questions her mind was whirling trying to figure out where to begin.

Finally she interrupted the quiet. "How do you do it?"

"Do what?" Trew asked, continuing to look straight ahead.

"You know - talk to me... without actually speaking."

He turned to meet her eyes. "I just think about what I want to say and I think about wanting to say it to you, and it happens."

She considered his response. "Can you do that with everyone?" she asked.

He chuckled softly. "No. Only with you." His eyes glowed with warmth as he looked adoringly at her. With one look and one sentence he had made her feel so special. Her eyebrows lifted in surprise when he told her, "You can do it too."

"I can? How do you know?"

What he said next settled any doubt that Martie may have had that this was not real. "Because that's how you talk to me in my dreams."

"Oh." She was lost in his eyes, the intensity of them pulling her in deeper.

"But I have to admit," he said, "Now that I've finally heard it, I really like the sound of your voice."

Her face flushed soft pink, which caused him to squeeze her hand and laugh out loud. The sound of it sent trickles of joy up and down her torso. It has such a fun and friendly resonance to it.

"Let me try it," she offered.

"Go for it."

She continued to gaze at Trew, and in her mind said the first thing she thought of. _"Do you always bring girls here?"_

He laughed out loud again and responded without speaking, " _No, you're the first."_

Her jaw dropped. He was right. She could communicate with him through thought alone. Who knew this was even possible? " _Oh I feel so special,"_ she teased without words.

" _You are special. You're literally the girl of my dreams."_

The next thing she knew he was leaning in for a kiss and she feared her erratically bouncing heart would give away her nervousness. She lifted her chin to meet his lips and they shared a small innocent first kiss. She found his lips to be soft and warm, and the feeling behind the kiss pure sincerity.

She'd had a number of crushes before and she had even kissed a few boys, but never had she felt as electrified as she did now. She stifled the urge to jump up and do a happy dance. Instead she returned her eyes to his and looked deeply. He was giving her that burning intense gaze again and she wondered if she could stay here like this forever. She wondered if this was what being in love felt like. It was odd, she'd only just met him and yet she had also known him all her life.

"So the dreams..." he said, "What do you think that's all about?"

"I don't know." She tore her stare away from him to look out into the dark field and consider. "I think it means we're connected somehow."

"Connected? Like related?"

She shrugged. She wasn't sure what she meant by connected, just that she felt they were.

"God I hope not," he breathed, which was a relief because that's exactly what she had been thinking. But she couldn't help but wonder if they were related. However, there was such an instant and incredible mutual attraction between them. Surely they wouldn't feel that if they were related, would they?

"When were you born?" she asked.

"November twelfth, 1994."

She relayed her birthday as being June twenty-eighth, 1995, and they both quickly did the math in their heads.

"Well that rules out having the same mother," he said, encouraged.

"Phew," she laughed. Then the magical moment that was only Martie and Trew evaporated as she suddenly remembered why she was even in Calgary. Her mother was missing. And with the reminder of that, all the wonder and thrill of meeting the boy from her dreams vanished.

The disheartened look on her face wasn't unnoticed by him and instantly his intense gaze returned. "Martie, what's wrong?"

It wasn't like her to share her problems or worries with people, especially to a boy she had just met, but he made her feel so at ease, so comfortable, and she instinctively felt she could trust him with anything.

She relayed everything to him: how her mother had disappeared on her birthday, about the secret money stash and the old sketch of her and about the name Larzel. She told him about how Fran said she couldn't call the police on her mother's orders, about driving all the way to Calgary by herself even though she was terrified. She told him how she showed up at the address on the paper just to find out that no one named Larzel lived there, about how it was all for nothing. By the time she was done there were tears dripping slowly down her cheeks.

Trew watched with that intense look in his eye the whole time. He squeezed her hand when she was finished, his eyes softened. "Well it wasn't all for nothing," he said. "We wouldn't have found each other if you hadn't come."

His words made her pulse erratic and they forced an abrupt giggle from her mouth. The moisture dripping down her face doubled. They had turned into tears of joy. How could being around one certain person possibly feel so perfect and so right? She didn't know, but she was glad they had found each other.

He reached his free hand up to her face and gently wiped away some tears with the back of his fingers. "Happy belated birthday," he said.

"Thanks."

He took a breath and stared out into the darkness.

After a while he looked back at her and said, "You know, it might be a long shot, but my dad's girlfriend is a flight attendant. If your mom caught a plane, maybe..."

She was grateful that he wanted to help, but she shook her head. "No. The chances that she saw my mom are so small. I don't even know if she went by plane anywhere, or if it would have been through Calgary."

His shoulders dropped, but then perked right back up into place. "Well," he offered, "You need a place to stay tonight while we figure out our next step in finding your mom."

_Our_ next step? She could barely believe what she was hearing. He really did want to help.

"So," he continued, "Come and stay with my family tonight. And it can't hurt to ask Brandi while we're there."

"Won't your parents have a problem with you bringing a strange girl home for the night?"

He chuckled. "They won't have a choice."

"Okay," she said nervously, not really sure about this idea.

"Don't worry about it. It'll be okay," he assured her.

As much as she wanted to find her mother, she also didn't want the evening to end. She wished she could just sit here like this forever with him.

"Do you mind if we stay here for a little while longer?" she asked.

He squeezed her hand again and answered, "As long as you'd like."

She smiled at him and then rested her head on his shoulder. He dropped his head to lean it on her head just like in her dream.

He spoke to her without words. " _It's just like sitting on that cliff in the dream."_ Her breath caught as the realization of what he'd said gripped her. Not only did they dream about each other, but they dreamed the same dreams too.

CHAPTER FOUR

Martie gave Trew the keys to her car so he could drive them to his house. That seemed easier than having him constantly saying turn here or there. They rode in complete silence, stealing glances and grins at each other every now and then.

Lost in her thoughts, she hadn't been paying attention to where they were. So when the car stopped and Trew put it in park, she finally focussed her gaze on their surroundings. She peered out into the night and a little gasp erupted from her throat. A look out of the passenger window revealed the house he had parked in front of.

She whipped her head around, staring at Trew. "5325 Treeridge. This is where you live?" she asked in astonishment.

"Yeah." His eyebrows furrowed. "Why?"

She slowly looked back to the house. "This is where I was today. It's the address I have for the Larzel person."

His eyebrows shot up. "Seriously?"

"Seriously." Goosebumps had suddenly manifested on her arms and the back of her neck. She sat nervously staring at the house through her window as Trew got out of the car and walked around to the passenger side to open the door for her. When she appeared to be frozen in place, he crouched down so they were face to face.

"I'm scared," she admitted. It was too big a coincidence that her dream boy lived at the same address that her mother had scrawled on a piece of paper and hidden away. Something very strange was going on. Trew watched her shiver.

He reached out to offer his hand. "I promise they won't hurt you," he reassured. "And who knows, maybe they can help." She took a deep breath and placed her hand in his, grabbed her purse, and together they headed for the house.

Just inside the entry to the left, was the living room, where a man and a woman each sat in a recliner watching T.V. The woman was dressed in a silky robe with a tie at the waist. The open chest of the robe revealed a bit of a lacy thing with lots of cleavage behind it. Martie immediately recognized her as the woman she spoke to earlier. She glanced at the two of them when they entered, and one look at Martie made one of her thin eyebrows lifted.

The man immediately jumped from his chair when he saw them. He was in nothing but boxer briefs, and he cleared his throat as he quickly made his way past them and up the staircase on their right. He was a tall, broad man with a muscular build and a brush cut.

Trew led Martie into the living room and pulled her onto the couch bedside him. "Hey Brandi," he said to the woman.

"Hey Trew," she said back and shot Martie a suspicious glare. Despite the anxiety she was feeling, Martie offered a friendly smile.

Trew's dad returned to the living room with a pair of jeans and a t-shirt on. He plunked himself back on his recliner and turned to them with a smile. "Who's your friend, son?" He looked at Martie with a cheesy grin and intense eyes. They were just like Trew's; very dark and very deep.

"Dad, Brandi, this is Martie. Martie, this is my dad, Larry, and Brandi, his girlfriend.

Larry's nostrils flared as he swallowed, not taking his eyes off Martie. His expression wasn't unfriendly, but something about the way he was looking at her made Martie extremely uncomfortable. She was starting to think that coming to Trew's house had not been a good idea.

"We met earlier," Brandi sneered. "She came to the house looking for someone, but it wasn't you, Trew." She said it in an accusatory tone, like Martie was trouble.

"Yeah, well we ran into each other at the burger place on Carlsdale," Trew explained to them. Martie noted that he made a point not to say that they had just met for the first time.

Martie looked to Brandi with pleading eyes. "Totally a coincidence," she said. Brandi pursed her lips as if considering whether or not to believe her.

Trew's dad still hadn't taken his eyes off her and she tried hard to keep from squirming in her seat. Trew seemed to be aware of her uneasiness and placed his hand on her knee to give a reassuring squeeze.

"So, anyway, Martie needs some help with something and she needs a place to stay. She's going to be staying here at least for tonight while we can figure out what to do next."

Brandi unfolded her legs from beneath her, then crossed them and leaned forward. She addressed Martie first. "Martie, I'm sure you're a very lovely girl and all, so please forgive me for what I'm about to say." She then turned to Trew. "Honestly Trew, you expect us to allow a complete stranger to spend the night in our home?" Oh, this was definitely a bad idea, Martie thought. She didn't want to cause trouble between Trew and his parents. Brandi clearly didn't like her and his dad would not stop staring at her.

Trew rolled his eyes at Brandi then faced Larry "Dad..."

Martie decided it was time to suck up her insecurities, get it over with, and be on her way. "Look," she said, standing up. She dug in her purse and pulled out the old sketch of her mom. "This is my mom... well when she was younger. Her name is Maggie Johnson. I'm trying to find her." She attempted to pass the paper to Brandi, but Larry stood and snatched it quickly. His furrowed brow and angry eyes scrutinized it carefully. But he said nothing. He handed the paper on to Brandi, took his seat, and resumed his intense stare at Martie.

"Never seen her before," Brandi stated and passed the sketch back to Martie.

Thick quiet fell over the room for a time.

" _Your dad and Brandie hate me,"_ she said to Trew without speaking.

He was quick to respond. " _No, they don't hate you. They just don't know you."_

"She's all alone," Trew pleaded to Brandi. He was obviously focussing on softening up the one he believed to be the softer of the two adults. "Her mother was taken away by someone and she..."

"Taken?" His dad's eyebrows shot up and his eyes widened. Finally he had stopped gawking at Martie and turned his attention to his son. "When did this happen?" he snapped.

"Three days ago."

Without any thought or consideration he stated, "Martie can stay." The sudden unexpected announcement from the man of the house made everyone's jaw drop.

"But Larry I..." started Brandi.

"For as long as she needs to stay," he barked at Brandi, and Martie could tell he wasn't a man to be argued with.

" _See, I told you it would be okay,"_ Trew's unspoken words said as he smiled his half grin at her.

Although she didn't feel completely comfortable in the company of Larry and Brandi, she was grateful for having a place to stay. "Thank you Mister..."

"Smith," he said. "But call me Larry."

"Thank you Larry." She smiled nervously at him.

Brandi threw her arms up. "Fine. Have it your way Larry. I just find it strange that this afternoon she was here looking for someone else, and now she shows up again with your son." She looked to Trew. "And by the way, just how long have you known this girl? This is all too much of a coincidence for me. I don't trust her." She shot an evil glare at Martie.

Martie felt the need to explain to Larry since he had been so kind as to allow her to stay. "Larry," she said to him. "I was looking for someone named Larzel. I found the name with your address in my mother's things." Something flickered in Larry's eyes. Recognition? Amusement? Anger? She couldn't really tell with him. He was so big and foreboding.

Against her better judgement, she pried, "Have you ever heard of him?"

"Umm...no, I haven't," he stammered, and then smiled quickly.

" _I know my dad,"_ said Trew in her head. _"He knows something."_

" _I was thinking the same thing,"_ she responded.

Not wanting to anger the hulk of a man, she opted to drop the subject for the time being.

Half an hour later Martie was sitting on the edge of the hide-a-bed that she and Trew had made up in the basement. The room was large and rectangular with a living room or rec room type area set up on one side. An old area rug marked the center and was surrounded by the shabby old brown hide-a-bed couch, a scratched up wooden rocking chair, and a small TV stand with an old stereo on it. Every wall and corner had something leaning against it: boxes, a bike, weights, books, magazines and numerous other things. It was cold and creepy, and smelled moldy. But Martie was grateful, so she didn't complain.

She had just sent Fran a text to let her know she was okay, that she'd found a safe place to stay, and that she would contact her when she left for home.

She turned her head to the sound of someone making their way down the creaky old stairs. Trew was descending with her suitcase and duffel bag. He plopped them down beside the bed and then stood there looking at her with a cocked eyebrow. "You okay?" he asked.

"Yes. No."

He sat beside her on the bed and tilted his head to one side.

"I'm glad your dad let me stay. But I don't understand why. Brandi obviously doesn't like me, and your dad, well...he's kind of intimidating. I thought for sure he was going to say no, and then all of a sudden..."

Trew smiled warmly. "I know. It was weird how he suddenly insisted you stay. I'll talk to him tomorrow and ask about Larzel again. And don't worry, he is intimidating at first, but he is a really good guy. As far as Brandi goes...well, who really gives a shit what she thinks. This is my dad's house - not hers."

She tried to smile sincerely at him, but he was able to see right through her. "You're worried about your mom."

Her eyes dropped downward and she nodded. "Yeah. The worst part is I don't even know where to begin looking. Larzel was the only connection..."

"It's late," he said. "Let's sleep on it and then brainstorm in the morning."

A sigh escaped her lips as she lifted her eyes to Trew. There was so much she wanted to ask him, so much she wanted to say, but he was right. It was late. It had been a long day.

"There's a small bathroom beside the laundry room." He pointed to a door on the wall by the stairs. "I'll wait here if you want to get changed and ready for bed."

"Okay. Thanks."

She picked up her bags and took them to the washroom. He was right - it was definitely small - just enough room for a toilet and small sink. She changed into an oversized t-shirt that she used as a nightshirt.

She dared a look at her reflection in the mirror. The face that stared back looked horrid to her. She was pale and had purplish marks sagging under her eyes. Her small five foot four frame looked bonier than normal, and even her hair looked exhausted. She gave it a quick brush and then did the same to her teeth.

She returned to the couch bed to find Trew had the covers pulled back on one side and was lying on top of them on the other side. When she climbed in he threw the blankets over her and turned on his side to face her, his head propped up on his hand. He had also put the floor lamp on beside her and switched the main light off. She shivered at the feel of the dark basement and pulled the covers tightly against her body.

"Want to talk for a while?" Trew asked.

"Yeah. I'd like that."

"I can even stay all night if you want."

She narrowed her eyes at him. "I don't think your dad would like that idea very much."

He snickered a little. "Actually, he wouldn't mind at all."

"Yeah right."

"No really," he said. "He's really liberal when it comes to..." He paused, looking her over. "Well, he's not like other parents. He doesn't get all hung up about sex and stuff like other people do."

He noticed that she had raised an eyebrow in surprise.

He laughed a little. "No, I don't mean that we're actually going to have sex. I just mean that us sleeping in the same bed is not a big deal. And even if we were going to...well, he'd be okay with it."

His face had become a pale pink color and when she laughed, it darkened to a deep pink.

She wanted to ease his mind so she said, "Actually, now that I think about it, my mom has always been pretty open about talking about sex to me too. She says that our society has turned it into some sort of taboo hush-hush subject when really it should be something to be celebrated and enjoyed, instead of shrouded with rules and shame."

Now it was Trew's turn to lift an eyebrow. "That sounds kinda like my dad's theory too."

They remained silent for a while.

Martie made up her mind. She relaxed her tight hold on the covers and said, "I'd like it if you stayed with me tonight." Then in her head, she added, _"But we won't be having sex."_ This prompted a good roar of laughter from him, and she willingly joined in too.

When they had recovered from their fit they both turned onto their backs and stared up at the ceiling. They lay like that for a long time, not touching, just talking and getting to know each other.

Martie learned that Trew had just completed high school and in the fall he planned to attend university. He had a passion for renewable resources and he planned on studying green engineering. He was raised by his dad, with some influence from Larry's close girlfriends over the years. Brandi had been living with them for three years. He knew nothing about his mother other than her name was Sheila.

With him she shared what her life at home was like, her friends, her mom and Fran, and that she aspired to be an elementary school teacher because she adored little kids.

She didn't remember their conversation ending and she didn't remember sinking into dreamland. But when she did, he was there.

It was just the two of them in a vast open space. They were facing each other and floating on their bellies with both arms outstretched and their hands clasped. They twirled around each other, flipping upside-down. It was free and wonderful. They stopped turning for a minute and he looked at her with his slightly blurred face and his dark intense eyes. She knew he was telling her how happy he was that they were together. She thought the same thing back to him and he smiled so that his entire face was glowing. Then he pulled her toward him and they began spinning and twirling again, laughing with delight. The next thing she knew Larry's head appeared - no body, just a gigantic and frightening head. She cringed away from him, but Trew didn't notice. He turned from her to smile at his dad, and the dream ended.

She woke up the next morning feeling light and free with a stupid smile planted on her face. Even though the dream had ended strangely, her subconscious had remained focus on the good parts - the spinning and laughing.

She turned to find Trew was not beside her, and a sense of gloom invaded her thoughts. This boy had already captured her heart and her soul. She knew hardly anything about him, they had spent less than twenty-four hours together, and yet she couldn't imagine her life without him - the real flesh and blood Trew. He was so much more in real life than she could have ever dreamed up. She was starting to believe that he was a piece of her that she didn't even know was missing before.

CHAPTER FIVE

Martie threw on a pair of shorts and a t-shirt and pulled her hair up into a ponytail, then quietly went up to the main floor to find Trew. There were voices coming from the back of the house, so she followed them to find Trew and Larry sitting at the kitchen table.

Still nervous about what his father might think of her, she hesitated for a moment.

Trew noticed her standing in the door way and offered a welcoming smile. "Come," he said waving his hand. "Would you like a coffee?"

"Umm sure," she said and snuck a glance at Larry. His expression was soft, yet his eyes still stared at her with uncomfortable intensity.

She sat beside Trew and he rose to quickly fetch a cup of coffee.

When he returned she added a spoonful of sugar and stirred. The air in the kitchen was thick with tension and part of her wanted to bolt. But leave it to Trew to put her at ease. He placed his hand on her thigh and she heard his words in her head. _"That was some dream, eh?"_ She wondered if she would ever get used to the idea of being able to talk secretly like that.

" _Sure was,"_ she agreed, and they exchanged a knowing smile. Larry looked at them quizzically.

"Did you sleep well?" he asked.

"Yes, thank you," she responded shyly. "And thank you for letting me stay here."

"You are welcome here for as long as you need," he stated with so little emotion, she wasn't sure if he really meant it.

Her mouth curved into a gracious smile anyway. "That's very generous of you."

A long uncomfortable silence took a seat at the table with them. Martie looked around the kitchen attempting to give off a nonchalant vibe.

The room was one big square with a door from the living room at the front of the kitchen and a back door to the yard opposite it. All four walls were lined with old cabinets and counters that had seen better days. The counters were chipped and the faded aqua colored cabinets had paint peeling off them. Right smack in the center of the room was the round kitchen table where they sat, each one seemingly unsure of what to say.

The sound of the second hand of the clock on the wall seemed to increase in volume the longer they sat. Martie's heart beat began to match the loud tick sound and she wondered if they could hear it trying to thump its way out of her chest.

The truth was that Martie was afraid of Larry. She couldn't shake the feeling that he knew more than he was telling her. The way he had grabbed the sketch of her mom, and the way he looked at it gave the impression that he recognized her. But it could be just the way he was - strange and scary. But then again, he had let her stay with the offer to stay as long as she needed. He couldn't be all that bad if he was willing to take in a stray teenage girl. She decided it was now or never. If she was going to annoy him with more questions she may as well get it over and done with.

She forced herself to tune out the irritating ticking of the clock and cleared her throat in an attempt to muster some courage before addressing him. "Larry," she began, "Are you sure you've never seen my mother before?"

He narrowed his eyes and she felt Trew gently squeeze his hand on her thigh under the table.

"No," was all he said, with a tone that demanded the conversation go no further.

"What about Larzel?" she pried.

"No idea." She wondered if this man could be any less forthcoming.

"Okay, why did my mom have your address written down?"

"Must've known someone who lived here before. We've only been in this house for seven years." It was a shock to hear so many words come out of his mouth at once.

"Dad, if you can..." Trew began.

Larry whipped his head toward his son. "Enough," he bellowed with the slam of a fist on the table. "If there was anything I could tell you to help, I would."

"I'm sorry," Martie said meekly, hoping this wasn't causing problems between father and son. "I'm desperate for answers, and I guess I'm seeing things in your face that make me think you know something. Just wishful thinking on my part. I won't ask again."

Larry stood and smiled at them, with a strangely fast recovery. His face was relaxed and his body less tense. "I've got some things to do. You two enjoy your day." He headed for the back door.

"Hey Dad. Just one quick question before you go," Trew said.

Larry halted in his tracks and turned his head back with a warning leer.

"Is there any possibility - any at all - that Martie and I could be related?" Even though they had already done the math of when their birthdays fell, having ruled out having the same mother, this very thing had been nagging Martie as well. The sharing of genes could be a very plausible explanation for why she and Trew had this special gift for communication.

She held her breath waiting for Larry's answer.

He looked confused by the question, but he responded, "No. You two are definitely not related. Of that I'm positive." He gave them a smirk and left.

Trew grinned happily and squeezed her thigh again. Relief flooded Martie and she smiled back. Finally some good news!

With both Larry and Brandi gone from the house, Martie felt comfortable enough to have a shower. The water running over her body was refreshing and the warmth of it soothed her aching muscles. She hadn't realized how profoundly tension and anxiety could affect the body physically.

After she had soaped, shampooed and rinsed, she stood still, enjoying the soothing effects of the water. It was the perfect opportunity to take a breath and think.

Naturally the number one question on her mind was where her mother was. She wondered if she was okay. Was she ever coming back? Was she even still alive? And now that Martie had found a dead end at this address, where could she go from here? Then again, maybe it wasn't a complete dead end. It couldn't be pure coincidence that at the address in her duffel bag she found the boy she'd dreamed about all her life. Maybe it was a coincidence though. Maybe Trew's mother and her mother both took some sort of experimental drug while they were pregnant. She wondered if people still did that kind of thing. And then there was the whole Larzel thing. It suddenly occurred to her that Larzel might not be a name at all. It could be something else, like a code word or initials or something.

Before she knew it droplets from her eyes were falling and merging with the shower water. She was sobbing and pleading out loud, "Mom, please help me. I don't know what to do. I need you. Where are you?"

Standing on the bath mat, she wiped the fog from the mirror with her towel and stared at her dripping reflection. She sighed, and decided she needed a break - a day to forget all of the confusion. A fresh and relaxed perspective might do a world of good. She resolved that for the rest of the day she would try her hardest to let it all go.

She emerged from the upstairs bathroom and went downstairs to find Trew sitting in the living room. There was a bag and a cooler sitting by the front door.

His face lit up when he saw her. "Hungry?" he asked.

"Actually, yeah. I'm starving."

He flashed her a whole-hearted smile. "Great! Let's go then."

"Okay...go where?"

Although she shouldn't have been, she was surprised when he echoed her thoughts of only moments ago. "You need to let it all go for a while. Some time to just relax to give yourself a fresh perspective."

After throwing the bag over his shoulder and picking up the cooler, he grabbed her hand and led her through the main floor of the house and out the back door.

His old pick-up truck was parked in the back alley. They hopped in and took off. Martie couldn't wait to see where he was taking her. The vibes he was giving off oozed pure excitement and fun. It was contagious and all her worries and tensions evaporated as she became focussed solely on the wonderful gorgeous boy beside her.

Letting go of her shy side, she scooted over the bench seat to sit in the middle right next to him. He showed his appreciation with a huge smile as he flung his arm around her shoulders. She reached out and cranked the hard rock music that was playing on the stereo. He hooted with delight, and Martie woo-hooed right along with him. All of her problems were completely forgotten for the time being. This was exactly how she wanted to feel - always. She wished the moment would never end.

They drove for about half an hour and ended up at a park-like area beside a river. Trew took the cooler and bag from the truck and Martie followed him along a gravel path for about ten minutes, until they finally arrived at a secluded grassy area surrounded by full green bushes. The spot sat on a small private bank overlooking the slow flowing river. She watched him take a large blue blanket out of the bag and together they spread it in the long soft grass. Martie made herself comfortable and looked up to see the sun high in the sky. To the east was a flawless summer blue sky, but to the west were large turbulent looking clouds.

She sat quietly taking in the view and the tranquil scent of nature. Trew unpacked the cooler and laid out buns, chips, and strawberries. He handed her a Coke, then paused when he noticed her staring at him.

"What?" he asked with the start of a playful smile on his lips.

"Oh, nothing," she teased. "I was just wondering if you bring all your girlfriends here. It's very romantic you know."

He laughed. "That's the second time you've asked me something like that. You got jealousy issues over me having previous girlfriends or something?" That hadn't even crossed her mind, although now that he'd mentioned it, she found herself wondering about his past love life.

He passed her a bun. As she was unwrapping it she said, "No. No jealousy. Just that most guys that I've dated...well...most guys take girls on dates to the movies or an amusement park or something. Not on a picnic."

His eyes dropped and he lost his smile. Martie instantly felt bad. She had hurt his feelings. She hadn't meant to. "I'm not saying I don't like it," she attempted to appease him. "Because I do. It's incredibly romantic. I've never dated a guy before who was so thoughtful. And the playground last night...Trew look at me."

He looked up at her.

"The playground was quite simply the best first date ever in my whole entire life. I'll never forget it."

The warm smile returned, but he was cautious. "Promise?" he asked.

She took a huge bite of her bun and nodded enthusiastically.

"Just so ya know," he said. "I have taken girls on those other kinds of dates too. But it's different with you." She eyed him questioningly, but before he could say more, the buzz of his phone interrupted. He checked it quickly and then threw it aside.

He swallowed his bite of bun and prepared to pick up where he'd left off. "It's different with you," he said. "You're different. I still want to take you to do all those other things. But for now, for right now, I'm still in shock that you're real, and I guess I'm selfish. Because what I want is to have you all to myself for now. I want it to be just you and me whenever possible."

He dropped his eyes again and a low growl erupted in his throat. "I'm not explaining this very well," he complained.

She smiled sweetly at him. "Actually you don't need to explain. I understand, because I feel exactly the same way." She really meant it. This was one of those moments, and this was a guy that felt too good to be true. But he was Trew. She snickered to herself over the pun. She felt completely amazing when she was around him. And absolutely, she would've liked the entire world to go away for a while so it could be just the two of them.

Her words made him turn slightly pink and his mouth widened into a beaming smile.

His phone buzzed again. His face tinted with mild anger as he read a short message, but again he set it down.

Not thirty seconds later the ring tone on his phone blasted. He reached over to see who it was. His face reddened and his lips pressed into a firm line. Martie watched as he powered off the phone and threw it down on the blanket.

"Who was it?" she asked.

"No one."

"Trew..."

"It was Alexis." He looked at her guiltily. She cocked her head to one side and narrowed her eyes, prompting him to give more details. "She's uh, well, kind of my girlfriend."

Martie's brows shot up. "Girlfriend!" She told herself to calm down. She'd only met him the night before. "Is it serious?"

"We've been dating for a few months. I guess she thinks it's serious, but I don't." When he saw the worried look on her face, he elaborated. "I never did think it was serious. I was planning on breaking up with her soon anyway. I will. I'll do it the first chance I get. I would've done it sooner, but well...you know."

She believed him. He was right. They'd only met the night before, and neither of them had had a chance to do anything since then. So she let the conversation drop. Still, she wondered who this girl was. They had a history, and it was possible that their history could be a threat to Martie and Trew's new found relationship.

They finished their lunch and lounged on the blanket feeding each other strawberries. They talked about a lot of things, including their likes and dislikes, their childhood, their parents, and their friends. They seemed to have a lot in common. They were both raised by single parents. Although unlike her mother, his dad had had a few serious relationships over the years, none of which he ever wanted to take to the next level. Larry believed that it was not human nature for men and women to keep the same mate for life. Her mother had dated the odd time, but they never amounted to much, at least not to her knowledge. But then again, she couldn't help but wonder if she really knew her mother at all.

They found it curious that their parents had similar views on things; the same morals and standards of living. They were both very critical of the world and how it was run, and in how people chose to live their lives. They both said a world without the competition for money, without politics, and without religion, would be so much better. It was very interesting just how similar his dad and her mom were.

They spent some time reminiscing about some of the dreams they'd shared over the years. They were both still astounded by this and wished they could figure out what it all meant.

They had been lying on their backs staring at the sky. As they had been talking, the threatening clouds had slowly crept closer. Trew rolled onto his side and gave Martie that deep intense gaze of his. "You have the most beautiful eyes I've ever seen," he said. "They are such a brilliant green color. I swear they're that color just for me."

Smiling like a fool, she rolled over to face him and reached her hand out to touch the hair above his right ear. She began running her fingers along his scalp and through his hair. It was so soft and it felt so good to be touching him for real. "I think I'm dreaming," she whispered. "Are you really here?"

Inhaling deeply and following it with a slow sigh-like exhale, he murmured, "If this is a dream, I hope we never wake up."

She closed her eyes, taking in the scent of their surroundings, the cool tickle of the breeze on her face, and the comforting warmth of the boy beside her. She never wanted to wake up either.

When her eyes fluttered open, Trew's face was closer, leaning in with deeper darker intensity in his eyes than she'd seen yet, and she became aware that she was utterly lost, would be forever.

His lips closed in, barely touching hers, so they were staring into each other's eyes and sharing deep breaths of the first twinge of love. They were both completely engrossed in the moment, neither wanting to move and possibly end the trance.

She couldn't stand it any longer. Feelings that she had never experienced before were threatening to overtake her. She wanted desperately to kiss him - really kiss him. Not a soft innocent peck like the night before, but a real, long, passionate, out of body and mind kiss. She'd never felt such desire for a boy before. With the fingers that were tangled in his hair, she pulled him in. He did not resist, meeting her with his own hunger and want.

It was wonderful, spectacular, and so much more than she could ever have imagined. Passionate didn't even describe it - there was so much emotion pouring from behind his lips. As she was melting in the moment she knew she had never really been kissed before. Not really.

His hand moved to the small of her back and the tips of his fingers gently dug in to pull her body closer to his. She drew her lips from his and opened her eyes to study him. She wanted to take in all of him. She wondered how she was so lucky. Yes, he was gorgeous. But he was so much more than just a pretty face; he was a good and honest guy. Romantic, thoughtful, and to top it all off, he was one damn good kisser.

His eyes flickered open to see the giant smile plastered on her face, and his response was the flash of a wicked grin right back at her. "Everything okay?" he asked.

"Couldn't be better." She chuckled and leaned her head against his chest, snuggling her body even closer to his. The light breeze had transformed into a strong wind and the air was feeling chilly. He rolled onto his back and wrapped his arm around her, giving her warmth and peace.

So," she asked, "Exactly how many girls have you brought home to spend the night?" She was playfully teasing, but was curious about his answer at the same time.

He laughed mockingly. "Geez, here we go again with my previous girlfriends."

Flipping onto her stomach, she rested her chin in her hands on his chest, so she could see his face. "Well there is Alexis. And she's not a previous girlfriend. She is presently a girlfriend." He looked hurt by her words, so she quickly said, "Never mind her. It's just that you're the one who told me your dad is very liberal and open-minded about sex..."

"He is. But that doesn't mean I'm some kind of stud or male whore."

"Trew!" she scolded. "You know that's not what I mean."

He rolled his eyes. "Fine. You're the first girl who has ever slept at my house. Is that what you wanted to hear?"

"Only if it's the truth."

"It's the truth."

They stared at each other for a minute. She was trying to gauge whether or not her question had upset him. His eyes were searching hers as if attempting to figure out what her question was leading to.

Martie was not normally one to be so upfront with people, but Trew was different. She was learning quickly that the two of them fit together as if they were actually made for each other. She took a small breath of courage, preparing for what could be an awkward question.

"So...you're a virgin then?" she asked.

A playful smile lit his face. "I didn't say that..."

"So you're not a virgin?" She felt her cheeks turn warm.

He shook his head. She couldn't help but wonder how many, but decided against continuing that particular line of interrogation.

But apparently he wasn't done with it yet. "Are you?" he asked.

"What?"

"Are you a virgin?"

She pursed her lips and attempted to look at him with the same intensity that he was looking at her. "Yes I am."

He remained quiet, looking at her with all seriousness.

She felt her face flush deeper and with silent words she told him, _"I think I've been saving myself for you."_ Even though her mother had very open ideas about sex, she had also instilled in Martie the idea that sharing it with someone special, someone who you loved and who loved you back, made it all the more wonderful.

His eyes brightened and his smile took over every inch of his lovely face. The next thing she knew he had hauled her on top of him, his hands gently holding her face as he pulled her in for a deep kiss. It was just as magnificent as the last one, and for a time the rest of the world disappeared as their longing for each other took over.

All too soon a crack of thunder snapped them back to reality and to the blanket on the grass. The ominous clouds were now directly above their heads. They suddenly split open with fury and instantly began pouring gallons of rain on them. They quickly gathered everything up, and completely drenched, ran hand in hand along the gravel trail, back to the truck, howling with laughter all the way.

CHAPTER SIX

What had started as a beautiful summer day had quickly turned sour, and that was just the beginning. Working in unison with the beating drops of rain were wicked flashes of lightning and the crashing echoes of thunder.

Trew pulled his truck into the parking spot in the back of the house beside Larry's car. Larry had just closed his car door and was rushing to the house with four large pizza boxes.

"Having a party?" Martie asked Trew.

"Nope," he answered. "That's supper. Dad will eat two of them by himself."

Her eyes grow wide.

"C'mon," he urged.

They ran through the back yard and into the kitchen door to see Larry had set the boxes on a counter and was rummaging through cupboards and drawers for plates and glasses. Saying, "Be right back," Trew took off to fetch towels for them. Martie stood dripping on the mat feeling uneasy at having been left alone with Larry.

Suddenly Brandi strutted loudly in from the living room carrying Martie's suitcase. Astonished, Martie swore under her breath as she remembered the stash of money hidden inside. This wasn't going to be good. Brandi dropped the suitcase on the kitchen table with a big thump, and stood back with her arms crossed and a smug look on her painted face.

Her eyes blazed at Martie, who was thinking it would be a good time to turn and bolt, when suddenly the back door flew open, narrowly missing her face. The umbrella that shoved its way in before the person carrying it, did however, manage to bump her in the cheek. In strolled a girl about Martie's age, impeccably dressed, make-up perfect, with not a single drop of rain on her flawless head of hair.

She was slightly taller than Martie, and when she looked down at her, Martie felt small and mousy.

"Hello Larry. Brandi," the girl said, nodding to each one respectively.

"Hi Alexis," Brandi said sweetly and continued her cold stare at Martie.

Alexis, thought Martie, Trew's girlfriend. So now here I am dripping wet and stuck in a room with two people who already hate me, and a third one who is about to. She wished the chewed up linoleum floor would suddenly grow teeth and swallow her whole.

Trew trotted in then and tossed a towel toward the door, not realizing at first that Martie had moved over and in her place stood Alexis. But it was too late to stop the throw, and the towel hit Alexis in the face. Martie caught it as it was about to fall to the floor, which earned her a dirty look from Alexis.

Trew stopped walking, and looking between Martie and Alexis, cautiously said, "Oh, hey Alexis. What are you doing here?"

She popped an eyebrow up at him and very coolly said, "You're not answering my calls and not replying to my texts so I came to find out what was going on." She tilted her head toward Martie in an obnoxious jerk, and continued, "But I think I've just figured out what's going on."

He took a step forward and that's when he noticed Martie's suitcase on the table. He looked at her quizzically, but she only shrugged and looked toward Brandi. Trew turned his head to follow her gaze toward Brandi before continuing on to Alexis. "Yeah...umm...listen Alexis. This isn't really a good time. We need to talk, but it's going to have to wait."

"Oh you are right about that. We do need to talk. But I'm not going anywhere. You will not put me off again Trew. We are going to talk right now!" She marched through the kitchen and out the door to the living room. Trew glanced at Martie apologetically and turned, resigned to follow Alexis.

Right on cue the kitchen clock started its war beat. Brandi kept her mouth shut, but it was obvious that she was patiently waiting for her turn to belittle Martie. Larry, looking confused, decided his stomach was more important and pulled two pieces of pizza from the box. Martie, not knowing what else to do, quietly started drying her rain-soaked self.

They could hear the argument going on in the next room, although only the odd word was loud enough to make out. She was unsure how she felt about the situation. Alexis was Trew's girlfriend, and he hadn't yet officially broken up with her. Technically, that made Martie the other woman, which was an uncomfortable thought. Trew should have talked to Alexis sooner, but in his defense they had only bumped into each other the night before, and everything since then had been a whirlwind of emotion.

Alexis's voice came through loud and clear as she neared the door to the kitchen. "You haven't seen the last of me, Trew." She approached the back door where Martie still stood, and glared at her through ice cold eyes. "You won't win," she sneered at her. "There's no way you could."

The door slammed so hard it rattled a nearby window.

Trew came into view looking a little red in the face. He walked right up to Martie and took both her hands. "Sorry about that," he said. "And don't worry. She is now history."

She gave him a shy smile as relief flooded her. But the relief was short-lived when she felt Brandi's burning stare. Trew followed her gaze and asked Brandi, "What's going on?"

She had put in her time waiting patiently for her moment, and could now lash out with glee. "I was right about your new little girlfriend. She's nothing more than a thief. A common criminal." A crack of thunder descended on the house as if to add to the drama that was Brandi. She stepped forward and opened the suitcase. She was thoroughly enjoying the moment. All eyes moved in unison to what appeared to be a completely empty suitcase. Martie pictured her clothes and other contents heaped in an ugly pile on the dirty basement floor. Knowing that she now had everyone's full attention, Brandi lifted the panel at the bottom and pulled it back, revealing the money. She stood back and crossed her arms again, looking at Larry with satisfied smugness.

Larry strode to the table to have a closer look. His eyes rounded but he said nothing.

"Jesus, Brandi," snapped Trew. "You had no right to go through her stuff. And she's not a thief. It's money that her mother's been saving for emergencies." He shook his head. "You're such an unbelievable bitch sometimes."

She scowled at Trew and turned to Larry. "Well?"

Larry still had nothing to say, so Brandi took it upon herself. She narrowed her eyes at Martie and pointed accusingly. "You," she grimaced. "We don't need your kind of trouble. Get out!"

A bolt of lightning flashed suddenly, brightening the room and making Martie jump. "I'm sorry. I'll go," she said, and attempted to step forward for her suitcase. But Trew held her back.

Larry found his voice. "No." He took Brandi roughly by the arm. It was so sudden that she teetered off balance for a second. "You go," he ordered.

"What?" She glared at him incredulously. "Me? She's the one..."

But he was leading her out of the kitchen and then up the stairs. She was complaining all the way, and soon Martie could hear the muffled sound of an argument coming from above her.

Her clothes and hair still dripping, she slumped her shoulders. What had just happened? She had already caused the breakup of one couple today and now she wondered if she had caused a second. Seeing her shocked expression, Trew pulled her into an embrace. Though they were both still cold and damp, it warmed her. "It's not your fault," he assured her. "This has been coming for a while. Dad told her the day she moved in that he would never marry her. It took a while for her to actually believe him."

"But what does that have to do with me?"

He squeezed her tighter. "Absolutely nothing. I think the way Brandi was treating you was just the final straw for Dad."

Martie had taken her suitcase back down to the cold creepy basement, reloaded her things in it, and put on some dry clothes. Brandi was gone. Now she sat at the kitchen table eating pizza with Trew and Larry. The loud ticking of the clock was trying to beat its way off the wall again. She had decided she would never get used to Larry. He came across so stern and intimidating. And with all the drama that had just taken place, she felt even more uneasy. But she was astounded by the way the man could consume pizza. She picked shyly at her own while he downed one whole piece in only two bites. She took note that Trew, thankfully, maintained self-control in the eating department.

The non-existent conversation was interrupted by the pinging of Martie's phone. She quickly retrieved it from her purse. It was Becky texting her.

Martie. How's the vacay going?

Good.

When you coming home?

Not sure Becks.

Big party at Markus Marillo's tomorrow night. You gotta come . Everyone will be there.

I don't think I'll be back by then. Sorry.

K. Let me know when you're coming home. Miss ya.

Miss ya too. BTW I'll want all the details of what happens at the party.

You got it.

They didn't ask, but for some reason she felt obligated to explain to Trew and Larry that it was a friend from home checking in to say hi and find out when she was coming home.

"What did ya tell her?" asked Trew.

"That I don't know yet."

And she didn't know, didn't know anything at all. She couldn't stay in Calgary forever. She would have to go back to school in the fall. But she wasn't sure that she would be able to say good-bye to this boy that she was sure she was falling in love with; correction - had already fallen in love with. It had happened so fast that it was even hard to admit to herself. She knew he was registered to start university in September. Until that moment, she hadn't considered the complications of their relationship. The one thing she knew for certain, was now that he was part of her real life, there was no way she could settle for only seeing him in her dreams. And then there was the whole missing mother thing... She didn't even know if she would be allowed to stay at her own house, as she was still a minor.

Her thoughts were halted by the ringing of her phone. She grinned stupidly at Trew and Larry, suddenly feeling very popular. She glanced at the phone to see it was Fran.

"Hi Fran."

"Are you on your way home yet?" she asked.

"No. I'm not sure when..."

She interrupted, "Well you need to get home now." She sounded very parental.

"But I..."

"No arguing." Then her tone softened and Martie had the sinking feeling she was about to tell her something she didn't want to hear. "Martie, please."

Martie gave Trew and his dad an apologetic smile as she headed for the privacy of the living room.

Their conversation lasted only a couple of minutes, but Fran's actions had left Martie with no choice. She had to leave for home immediately. She made her way back to the kitchen slowly. She was overcome with sadness, knowing that she had to say good-bye to Trew sooner than she'd hoped.

His brows furrowed when he saw the forlorn look on her face. "What's wrong?"

"I have to go home now."

"Why? Is there news about your mom?" he asked cautiously.

"No. Fran called the police." Her shoulders slumped.

Larry muttered under his breath, "Stupid woman," causing both Trew and Martie to stop and stare wide-eyed at him. But he ignored their looks and said nothing more.

Martie took some time to explain that even though her mother had told Fran never to call the police if she ever left suddenly or went missing, Fran felt that she had to. She said that deep down she believed her mom would have been back by now, and since she wasn't, Fran couldn't just sit around and do nothing anymore. She said her mother could be hurt or even worse, dead. Fran had explained that there were certain rules and protocols that needed to be followed when a minor was concerned. Now the police needed to see Martie to question her.

"How did this Fran explain about you coming here?" asked Larry. He looked worried and Martie was surprised by his sudden interest.

"She said that I had a hunch my mom came out here to see an old friend. But the story is I only had a first name and an address. Since my mom's cell phone wasn't working, I decided to drive out to see if she was here."

She watched Larry's stiff shoulders turned soft.

" _I'm sorry. I have loved spending time with you. I wish I could stay longer,"_ Martie told Trew without words.

He jumped from his chair, grinning mischievously. "Give me ten minutes to pack. I'm coming with you," he announced, and Martie's heart quickened.

Larry made only one minor objection about Trew going with her. He pointed out that Trew was supposed to start a new job the following week. When Trew's response was "Screw the job," Larry said nothing more. Martie just couldn't understand this man. He was so laid back with his parenting, yet the strangest things seemed to tense him up.

They filled up with gas and were on the road in no time. Martie was elated that Trew was joining her. Her trip to Calgary had been the most lonesome and long drive. Her hope of finding her mom there had failed. But what she did find was something far beyond her own comprehension. She had never, for one second, believed that the handsome boy from her dreams was real. And here he sat, right beside her; a living, breathing, oh so much better in real life, boyfriend. So the drive back was far from lonely. She couldn't help but steal glances at him every now and then, as thrilling warmth grew inside her very being. They took turns driving through the night, and after only a few brief stops they arrived in Regina the next morning.

They headed straight for Fran's house. She came rushing out of the house the instant the car pulled into the driveway. Stepping out of the driver's door, Martie was welcomed by an urgent embrace.

"Oh, Martie. I've been so worried about you. Thank God you're back safe and sound. Now listen, we need to..."

She abruptly stopped when she noticed Trew emerge from the passenger door. She looked at Martie with questioning eyes and then back at Trew. "Hello?" she said to him, and her eyes darted quickly back to Martie.

"Fran. This is Trew."

He walked around to join them and offered his hand to her. "Nice to meet you."

"And you, um...too." She took his hand and gave a fast shake.

She was looking at Martie with a confused expression, prompting her to offer further explanation. "Trew lives at the address I was going to. When we met, we had this instant connection. Kind of like we've always known each other."

She nodded, trying, but still not quite getting it.

"He wanted to come with me, and honestly, I was grateful for the company."

Trew stood with a big friendly smile on his face, waiting for Fran to accept him, but Martie could sense his apprehension.

"Oh," said Fran. "Well, then. Let's get you two inside and find you something to eat."

Martie grabbed Trew's hand. They were on her turf now, and she was happy to have a turn at leading him around.

They were just about to step through the front door when the sound of a car coming to a stop made them turn their heads. A shiny blue convertible had parked at the end of the driveway. Martie didn't immediately recognize the lone driver in her oversized sunglasses and trendy hat. But Trew did. "Ah shit," he said under his breath. "What the..."

Martie watched as the perfectly dressed girl got out of the car and walked around it, removing her sunglasses. Alexis! Trew released his hold on her hand and went to confront Alexis. Fortunately they met close enough to the steps that she could hear the conversation.

"Alexis, what are doing here? I can't believe you followed us."

"Oh don't act so surprised. I told you you hadn't seen the last of me." She moved in real close to him and toyed with the collar of his shirt.

Martie felt molten boiling in her. She did not like Alexis being that close to him, and even worse, he didn't step away from her. "I can't believe you came all the way here. I told you it was over between us, and I meant it."

But this didn't faze her. She simply batted her eyelashes and gave him a flirty smile. "Oh Trew, you know it's not over. You've had your fun with what's her name, now come on. Let's go home."

Trew had been attempting to be gentle, not wanting to hurt her feelings. Martie knew this, but when she had referred to Martie as 'what's her name', she noticed his posture stiffen and his fists clench. He grabbed Alexis's hand and tore it away from his shirt. He got right in her face and said, "It is over. Done. Forever. Understand? Now stop embarrassing yourself and go home." He stepped back from her, and the molten in Martie quickly turned cool.

Alexis sent Martie a stabbing look before turning on her heel to head for her car. Once seated, she put her sunglasses back on, started the engine, and shouted to Trew, "It's not over until I say it's over." In a squealing fury of tires, she was gone.

Fran had stood watching behind Martie the whole time. She gave Martie a sympathetic look, but to her relief didn't say a word about it.

Fran quickly whipped together some scrambled eggs and toast, chatting the whole time about what she'd already told Martie on the phone. The gist of it was that she'd told the police that Maggie was missing, and her house had been ransacked. She told them Martie went off to Calgary to follow a possible lead about an old family friend who lived there. She told them Martie couldn't remember the friend's name, and that all she had was an address. She didn't mention anything to them about the bag of money, or Maggie saying she might need to disappear someday.

The two of them ate appreciatively in silence as Fran rushed about. She finally settled in on a seat at the table and said, "Okay, we are going to see Detective Barda at the station in forty-five minutes."

"Fran," Martie complained, "I could really use a shower and a chance to freshen up." She wasn't looking forward to being questioned by the police, and wanted to stall for as long as possible. It wasn't as if she had anything to hide, but she was worried that she might say something to make things worse for her mom - if that was even possible.

"Plenty of time for showering later," Fran said brightly. "Right now we need to do everything we can to help find Maggie."

When they had finished eating, Trew collected the dirty dishes from the table and carried them to the sink. He began filling the sink with water.

"Oh, Trew, don't worry about those," Fran said.

He turned and smiled at her. "It's the least I can do after being served such a delicious breakfast." Martie could have sworn his eye twinkled when he said it.

"Okay. Thank you." Fran motioned for Martie to follow her to the next room.

When they were alone she grabbed her arms and leaned in close to whisper, "Where did you find him?" With emphasis on the 'him'.

"I told you already. He lives at that address on the paper."

"Well, he is one nice looking young man. And polite too. If I was just a few years younger..." She patted her hair and her face took on a stupid, dreamy look.

Martie laughed, "Down Fran. He's already taken."

Her eyes widened, "So, you're serious about him? But you just met. And what about the spoiled rich stalker?" Martie had never been serious about a boy before, so Fran's shock didn't come as a surprise.

"It's serious Fran," she gushed. "I can't explain it...I just know. And the stalker is history. She just hasn't accepted it yet."

"Well I'm happy for you. Just be careful, okay. I don't want you to get hurt."

"He won't hurt me," Martie said with all the confidence in the world.

When they returned to the kitchen, in her head she heard Trew ask, _"Everything okay?"_

" _Just fine,"_ she replied. _"Aunt Fran approves of you."_ She gave him a little wink.

Fran noticed the silent exchange between them and smiled fondly, happy for her friend's daughter.

The trip to the police station was uneventful. Martie had been worried for nothing, as all the questions seemed pretty standard. She told them her trip to Calgary had been a dead end, that her mother wasn't there and the 'friend' hadn't heard from her. They informed her that they'd searched the house and come up empty. They did note that the computers and some files were missing, making them believe that whoever was in the house was looking for information. Martie had come to the same conclusion when she was there. She told them she didn't believe her mother had any special information that would be worth anything to anyone, nor did she have any enemies that Martie was aware of. She was instructed to call if she thought of anything that might help, and they promised to be in touch if they got any new leads. Even though Martie was still a minor, it had been concluded that she was too old to be entered into the foster care system. Fran had offered to take on the role of guardian for the time being.

Back at Fran's, Trew and Martie took turns showering, and after a small lunch, the three of them gathered in the living room.

It occurred to Martie then that Fran's house was quieter than usual.

"Where's Ains?" she asked.

"She's at a friend's house right now. She'll be thrilled to see you." Then she turned to address Trew, "So how long will you be staying?"

Martie cringed as she sensed the guardian, parental Fran emerge. Before Trew could respond she piped up, "Oh Fran, no need to worry. We'll be out of your hair soon. We'll just stay at our house - Mom's house that is."

Somehow Trew instinctively knew to remain quiet and his open mouth suddenly snapped shut.

"Martie, you're not an adult. You're not eighteen."

"And I'm also not a little kid." She was insulted. She couldn't see the sense in invading Fran's life when there was a perfectly good house sitting empty only a few blocks away. "Besides," she added, "Trew will be with me."

"Martie. You will not be going to that house. What if 'they' come back? No, we can't take that chance. You will stay here in the guest room and Trew can have the couch." She smiled at him and as an afterthought added, "At least until it's time for him to go home."

Martie opened her mouth to argue but her phone rang. Annoyed with the bad timing, she answered without even looking to see who it was.

"Hello?"

"Martie, it's Becky. What the hell is going on?"

She gave Fran a glare to let her know their conversation was not over.

"What do you mean?"

"You're mom. Her picture is in today's paper. It says she's missing."

"Oh, yeah..." Martie had no idea it had become public news.

"So, what's going on? Are you okay?"

She wasn't sure what to tell her. For Martie this was getting to be old news - still devastating, but not new. She didn't want to have to explain, especially to one of her closest friends. That would mean not telling the whole truth, which meant lying.

"We don't know what happened. She just kind of vanished. No one's seen her."

"What can I do to help?" she asked.

Struggling with what to say, and what not to say, Martie only said, "I don't know."

Trew and Fran had been chatting together about something, and when Martie's eyes found his, he looked up with that wonderful half smile of his.

She knew it was wrong, and thought it might make her a bad person, but suddenly she felt the need to show her new boyfriend off to her friends. Of course she was still broken up about her mom, but until she could figure out what to do about it, shouldn't she be acting the part of the seventeen year old girl that she was? She settled her internal struggle by telling herself that her mom wouldn't want her to mope around. She would want her to have some fun and forget for a little while.

"Becks. I think I need a distraction. Is that party still on tonight?"

"Yes..."

"Great, I'll meet you there."

Becky squealed with delight. "See you there!"

She put her phone down and turned to Trew with a wide grin. "Feel like going to a party tonight?"

"Sure."

"And you'll be coming here after," Fran announced with a satisfied grin.

"But..."

"Trew and I have already decided that it's best for you to stay here."

Not believing what she heard, Martie gawked at him. He shrugged. _"Aw, c'mon, not a big deal. It'll keep her happy - she loves you and she's just looking out for you."_

She smiled and took a seat beside Trew, snatching his hand to squeeze it.

"Don't be home too late," said Fran, with victory oozing from every facial feature.

CHAPTER SEVEN

Dozens of cars crowded the circular driveway of Markus Marillo's house. Loud dance music boomed from somewhere, though Martie couldn't be sure whether it was from inside the house or from the back yard. Markus's parents were quite wealthy and the house was huge. Martie had attended one other party there the summer before.

She and Trew walked hand in hand toward the front door. He looked fantastic in a pair of black casual shorts and a pale blue muscle shirt. He wasn't the huge bulky guy his dad was, but the firm sculpture of his shoulders and arms showed he was in great shape.

He dropped his head slightly as they walked, to plant a quick kiss on Martie's bare shoulder. She had chosen a very summery plain yellow sundress. "Nervous?" he asked.

"A little," she admitted.

"But why? These are your friends."

She laughed anxiously. "I know. I think I'm just worried about what everyone will think about me being out partying when I should be at home worrying about my mother."

He squeezed her hand tighter. "Aw, c'mon. You can't stay home brooding every second. Besides, who gives a crap what anyone else thinks."

It sounded a little like a pep talk, but she knew he was sincere. She admired that he exuded confidence. She doubted that anything made him nervous, and he certainly wasn't shy. She knew she would be a wreck if she was about to walk into a party filled with complete strangers. Not Trew. He was in his element. She, on the other hand, had always been shy. She always let others take the lead, and she would avoid confrontation at any cost. But being with Trew was making her feel stronger, more confident. She liked it.

They located Becky and a group of Martie's other friends in the kitchen, filling cups with punch. They all screamed with girlie glee when they saw her, but turned quiet when they noticed the boy attached to her hand. They gaped without reservation.

Becky strolled over and gave her a big hug. "Martie, I've been so worried about you." She released her and gave Trew a scrutinizing once over. She then gave Martie a look to indicate she approved. "But I can see you're just fine. Just fine indeed." She batted her eyes at him.

"Becky this is Trew. Trew, Becky." They shook hands and Trew was unsure how to react when Becky wouldn't release his hand and started giving him the big friendly eye.

"Becks. Stop flirting with my boyfriend," Martie scolded with a laugh.

"Well now that you've marked your territory loud and clear..." She stepped away from him. "You better be good to our Martie," she said waving a finger at him. The other girls erupted into giggles.

Further introductions were needed, so Martie went around the circle of her girlfriends who were now surrounding her, Trew and Becky. "Trew, this is Kyra, Lexi, Andrea, Allie, and Leah."

He smiled, showing off his brilliant white teeth, and said hi to everyone. They all drooled over him. With great satisfaction, Martie realized she wasn't the only one who thought he was sizzling hot.

"C'mon," Becky called, ending the saliva fest. "Party's out back!"

The all grabbed a cup of punch and headed for the patio doors. Stepping into the dry heat of the prairie day they found teenagers scattered throughout the back yard. They were in the pool and lounging on the deck, others were dancing to the booming music, some boys were tossing a football around in the grass, and many more were mingling. The party was much bigger than Martie had anticipated and she was suddenly feeling guilty about coming. She was worried that her peers would think she was a terrible person for being out socializing while her mother was missing.

Seeing the drawn look on her face, Becky quickly pulled her aside, forcing her to let go of Trew.

"How're you holding out?" she asked. "Any news about your mom?"

"No Becks," she murmured. "No news. This was a bad idea. I shouldn't have come." She scanned the crowd to see how Trew was doing. She breathed a sigh of relief when she saw Markus shaking his hand and talking hospitably with him. Markus was a good guy. He was the kind of boy that was friends with everyone and got along with everyone, regardless of their social standing. You wouldn't expect him to be that way, given that his parents were loaded, but he was the complete opposite of a snob.

Now that she was confident Trew was in good hands, she turned her attention back to Becky. Her heart sank when she found her looking at her with pity in her eyes.

"Don't look at me like that," she scolded.

"You have just as much right to be here as anyone else."

Martie rolled her eyes. "Their mothers haven't mysteriously vanished. People aren't looking at them like, 'how can she be here when she should be at home crying'."

"No one's looking at you like that." But Martie could hear the white lie in her voice. She too had noticed the hushed whispers and strange stares.

Two girls from school approached, and as they passed they patted her arm, uttering how sorry they were about her mom and how they hoped she would turn up soon. She thanked them graciously and glared back at Becky.

"Well, who cares what anyone else thinks..." she began.

Someone came up behind her and suddenly draped their arms over Martie shoulders. "Hey Smartie," said the voice behind the arms. She could smell the distinct odor of beer on his breath. It was Bradford, the hot jock who had been crushing on her for almost two years. Martie couldn't deny that he was a good looking guy, and most girls would have done anything to date him. The problem Martie had with him was that he knew exactly how hot he was. He would do everything possible to flaunt it. Even at that moment she could tell he was shirtless and could feel him flexing. Not her type at all. She had turned his advances down countless times, but he didn't give up, and seemingly made it his personal mission to keep after her until she gave in.

"Hey Bradford," she sneered, and attempted to duck out from under his arms. But he was fast, and turning to face her, quickly pulled her into a tight embrace. Much too close for Martie's comfort, she squirmed and wriggled trying to free herself from the forced hug. "C'mon, let go."

"Excuse me." Trew appeared suddenly, tapping on Bradford's shoulder. "I believe she's asked you to let go of her."

Bradford reluctantly released his hold on her, turned to Trew with a grimace. "And who the hell are you?" he sneered.

Trew offered his hand as Martie hooked her arm in his to help him stake his claim. "This is my boyfriend Trew. Trew this is Bradford."

Not surprisingly, he refused to take the offered hand and spat out a scowl. "What kind of a name is Trew?" As he sauntered up to get into Trew's face, Martie could practically see the testosterone dripping from his pores.

"Jesus, Bradford, don't be an ass," she said with disgust. But her words were ignored.

"C'mon man," pleaded Trew. "I'm not looking for a fight. You'll have one if you really want one. But it seems stupid to ruin a perfectly good party."

Before Bradford could respond, Markus pushed his way between the two of them and placed himself face to face with Bradford. "Back down man, or you're outa here," he warned.

They stared each other down for a long minute while a small crowd gathered around all of them, giving Martie even more unwanted attention.

Eventually Bradford put his hands up in surrender and backed away, giving Trew a sidelong glance. Much to Martie's relief, the crowd dispersed quickly and everyone resumed their previous activities.

"Sorry about that," Trew apologized to Markus.

"Not your fault. That's classic Bradford. Always gotta keep an eye on him."

Trew smiled appreciatively and took Martie's hand. She followed his gaze to a patio area where a few couples were dancing. Darkness had taken the sun's place, and patio lanterns glowed dimly along the walls of it, giving the area a romantically surreal aura.

Her heart fluttered as he smiled warmly at her. "Let's go."

They started dancing just in time to catch the tail end of a dance mix. A slow dance began and he pulled her close. He was the perfect height so the top of her head stopped just at the underside of his chin, so she snuggled in happily. His solid chest was comforting under her cheek, making her sigh with utter contentment. The other dancers had left the area with the start of the slow song, so it was just the two of them now. As they clung to each other and swayed slowly to the beat, he gently stroked her back, leaving trails of tingles up and down her spine.

As soon as she'd done it, she wished she hadn't. She opened her eyes to dare a peek at what else was going on at the party. A number of people had stopped their festivities to watch them dance. Many of the girls were watching Martie with envious eyes or gaping at Trew with teen lust. Then there were those who she thought were looking at her with what she deciphered as disgust. She decided she shouldn't have come. She knew her being there was wrong. She could only hope they all realized she did love her mom, and that she was torn up inside by her disappearance.

Her eyes then fell on an unexpected face. Alexis was standing only four feet away, arms crossed, and flaunting a cocky grin. Martie could hardly believe it. This girl had a lot of nerve walking into a party filled with people she didn't know, with the sole purpose of stalking Martie's boyfriend. Did she not realize this was Martie's territory, and that these were Martie's friends? Was she really stupid enough to try something here?

She sauntered up to the two of them, and with a lick of her lips, spoke in a snide tone to Martie, "This is where I cut in. Go play with your little friends."

Trew opened his mouth to object, but it was too late. Martie had had enough of this girl. She wasn't getting the message. People were staring, and this time she would not be the submissive one. She would not stand down in front of her friends. She would not be made to look like a fool. She quickly scanned the crowd for the person she was looking for. She located him quickly, grabbed Alexis firmly by the arm, and pulled her, walking rapidly.

Trew stood for a moment, flabbergasted. Then followed to see what Martie was up to.

She marched the struggling Alexis right up to the poolside and flung her body forward right into the big bare chest of Bradford.

"What the..." screeched Alexis. Then she realized she was staring into the pecks of a very muscular, hot bodied guy. Her eyes slowly scanned upward until they met his eyes. A flirty grin appeared and her eyes sparkled with delight.

"Alexis, I'd like you to meet Bradford. Bradford, Alexis."

Bradford puffed his chest out further and wrapped an arm around her. "Well, hello Alexis," he purred.

The two of them clung to each other seductively as they turned and slowly walked toward the house. Like two nuts from the same peanut shell, Martie thought with a grin.

Knowing she had simultaneously solved two problems, Martie turned with a satisfied sigh. Trew was there with a proud smile for her. Her eyes lifted to his. "I want to go," she whispered.

He lifted a hand and gently skimmed her cheek with the back of his fingers. His eyes were dark and shone with warmth. "Okay," he whispered, pulling her tight to him. "After we finish our dance."

Back on the patio, she nestled into his chest again, allowing their bodies to move as one. If only the circumstances were different, she thought. She would have loved to dance like this with him all night long. She squeezed her eyes tight, blocking out everything around them, so all she heard was the music, and all she could smell was the comforting aroma of Trew's skin.

They left the party with quick good byes to her friends, who all wished her well and hoped for a quick return of her mom.

Not much later, she pulled up in front of her house, and when Trew asked why they were there instead of at Fran's, she explained that she wanted to get some more clothes. He told her he wasn't sure it was such a good idea, but followed her inside anyway.

She grabbed a large bag from the closet and led him to her bedroom, where she quickly dug through her closet and drawers, tossing things into the bag. It took her no more than a few minutes and she surprised Trew by setting the bag down by the door and turning on her stereo when she was finished.

He was standing in the middle of her room looking confused, so she strolled up to him and wrapped her hands around his neck. "Let's dance some more," she suggested with cheeks pinking.

He flashed her a wicked grin and rested his hands on the small of her back. And then it happened - she broke down. She'd been trying so hard to hold it all together, but now, here, standing in her room, in the house that she grew up in with her mom, it overwhelmed her. Her mother was gone. Would she ever see her again? She might even be dead. The worst part by far was the not knowing, not having any answers.

It was suddenly too much for her, and she desperately needed someone to lean on, someone to help her pick up the broken pieces of her life. Trew was here, the boy of her dreams, and she knew he was the one person who could do just that. As she sobbed into his strong chest he gently stroked her hair and quietly whispered in her ear. Not only was he here for her now, she realized that he had always been there for her, long before they actually met. Whenever times got tough or something was upsetting her, he would come to her in her sleep to comfort and lift her up. And here he was now, in the flesh, at the time in her life when she needed him more than she had ever needed him before.

He held her gently as she drained her body and mind of the pent up anguish, and she felt their connection grow stronger than ever. There was no doubt there was so much more between them than physical attraction, than a history of shared dreams, more than the ability to communicate without spoken words. They had a special bond that transcended anything comprehensible to the human mind. There was no need to question it. It simply was. She could tell by his soothing touch and by the way his eyes burned into her soul when she looked up at him, that he felt it too. There was no need for them even to discuss it.

She had calmed, so her drenched face formed a huge smile when she saw Trew's dark eyes gleaming at her with such intensity it could have melted metal.

" _I love you,"_ she told him wordlessly.

He swept her into his arms and carried her to the bed, where he laid her down on the soft pink comforter. He knelt down on the floor so they were eye to eye, and gave her a serious look. She couldn't help but feel nervous about what he would say in response to her confession.

"What?" she asked as nausea threatened.

His eyes darkened with force. "Martie," he began, "I have always loved you. Since the very first moment I saw you." What magical words. They had her body dissolving into the bed while her head buzzed with elation.

She reached out both hands to pull his head in for a deep urgent kiss. "It's time," she whispered.

He climbed up next to her on the bed, his eyes dark, yet cautious. "Are you sure?"

Martie had never been more certain of anything before. She had never felt so close to another human being in her life, and she was aching to experience the ultimate in oneness with him. In the short time she had known Trew, he had given her so much, and in return she wanted to give herself to him; body, soul, mind, everything. "I'm positive," she assured him.

Her mother had been right, and she was glad she had saved herself for someone as special as Trew. The experience was beautiful, and one that Martie would not forget. Their bodies fit like hand and glove, like one was born for the other. Their souls united and their unique bond deepened. He gave to her much more than she could have ever asked for in a first time; kindness, gentleness, and the utmost respect.

They lay together for a time afterward, having a quiet unspoken conversation. Serenity filled the dim room and her troubles were softly packed away in the far reaches of her mind.

Suddenly, they froze and looked at each other with wide eyes. A scuffling sound was coming from the living room. Her briefly forgotten troubles sprung front and center in her brain as panic took hold. She whispered her fear to Trew. _"They've come for me!"_

CHAPTER EIGHT

Martie and Trew slid out of the bed silently. He pulled on his shorts while she yanked her sundress over her head. He frantically looked around for something to use as a weapon. Martie, not being the sporty type, had no baseball bat or golf club stashed away in her bedroom. Unfortunately pom-poms and ballet slippers would not serve the purpose. She scanned the room and finding the best possible weapon, quickly handed him a large can of aerosol hair spray. His panicked face gave her a 'what the hell is this for?' look, so she gestured the act of spraying her eyes. He shrugged and nodded.

Footsteps thudded down the hall, rapidly nearing the door to her room. Trew motioned for her to hide in the closet, so she obeyed and tiptoed inside. She closed the door behind her without clicking it completely shut.

She shoved her hands over her mouth to muffle a small scream when the sound of her bedroom door banging against the wall made her jump.

"Drop the can," a man's voice shouted. The tinny thud of the hairspray can hitting the hardwood could be heard from her place behind the closet door. "You're coming with us," the voice demanded.

Fear gripped her with ice cold hands as she realized 'they' were taking Trew. Her mind swarmed with the sound of a thousand angry wasps as she wondered what to do. Give herself up? Try to follow them? Hide here? No, she couldn't just hide and let him be taken. Then she would have lost both her mother and her boyfriend. The reeling of indecision had her trapped.

She screamed out loud this time, and just about fell backwards when the closet door abruptly flew open. Suddenly there was a gun in her face and a different man's voice said, "Hands up where I can see them. Step out of the closet slowly."

She was dizzy with dread, but did as she was told.

Emerging from the darkness of the closet, she gawked with horror at the sight of Trew on his knees with his hands behind his back. She presumed they were in handcuffs, because her eyes had now adjusted to the light, and the man standing beside Trew was in a uniform. Their captors were policemen, and with that realization her forehead creased.

Cop Number Two, the one with the gun in her face, pulled her hands behind her back and secured them in cuffs. Then he escorted her to where Trew was kneeling, and pushed her down beside him.

"Who are you?" demanded Cop Number One.

For a brief moment her frazzled brain was trying to figure out why cops would take her mom, and then try to cover it up. But then it dawned on her, and she felt idiotic for thinking that this was anything like a movie plot. Obviously what was happening was a simple misunderstanding.

"I'm Martie Johnson," she told him. "This is my house. Well, my mother's house that is."

Cop One tilted his head to one side. "Why are you here? You're not supposed to be staying here."

"We just came so I could get some clothes and things."

Cop Two stepped forward and removed her cuffs. "We need some ID please." She motioned to her purse which was sitting on the shelf by the window. He retrieved it, and after a quick search of the contents, handed it to her. She pulled out her wallet and showed them both her driver's license. He nodded at Cop One to take the cuffs off Trew.

When Trew stood up he put his arm around Martie's shoulders. "Sorry," he said. "We were at the station today. No one told us we couldn't come here."

"We're keeping an eye on the place by doing drive-bys from time to time," Cop One explained. "Just in case the people who were here before return."

"Sorry," Martie muttered. "We didn't know."

"Well next time make sure to contact us ahead a time. You coulda got yourselves killed."

Trew surprised her by asking them if they could have a few more minutes to get some things together, assuring them they would be on their way shortly. They agreed to wait outside until after they'd left.

When they were gone, Martie turned to Trew with curious eyes. He explained that he had the idea there might be something that was missed, a clue to help them figure out where her mother went, or who took her. From her last visit here before leaving for Calgary, she already knew that her desk drawers had been emptied; every file folder or computer storage device was gone. But she didn't look in her mother's bedroom then, so that's where they decided to start.

It was immediately obvious that someone had already searched there but Trew insisted they had nothing to lose by looking again. It was strange for Martie to go through her drawers; partly because she felt as if she was invading her privacy, and partly because she kept coming across items that stirred sentimental memories in her. She tried hard to shove those thoughts aside and concentrate on the task at hand.

Trew was rifling through the closet when she suddenly heard him call, "I think I found something." She stopped her digging and walked over to see what he had discovered.

Way off on the far left bottom of the closet, behind where a shoe rack normally sat, was a hidden panel in the wall. Trew has his hand stuck inside it feeling around. The entire hole only measured about ten inches by ten inches. He pulled a book out, and brought it into the light of the room, blowing the dust off of it.

"Look familiar?" he asked, handing it to her.

"No." She took it and gently flipped the pages with her thumb. It appeared to be a journal or diary. She was just about to select a page to read when something came loose and fluttered to the floor.

Trew retrieved it and held it up for a closer look. What he saw widened his eyes and made his brows shoot up high. When Martie moved close to his side to see what it was, her mouth dropped open.

It was a photograph, a picture of the city that she had dreamed about - the city that both she and Trew had dreamed about. Amazingly it even looked like it was taken from the same cliff where they sat in the dream. In fact she knew it was, because right at the very bottom of the picture, in the foreground, was the cliff ledge with a tiny shrub growing - the same shrub they sat beside in the dream.

She didn't know what to think, or what to say, and what blurted from her mouth was, "Holy shit!"

"You got that right," agreed Trew.

Hands shaking slightly, Martie turned the photo over. On the back, in list form, were four notations written in pen: 'Blink, Penn's, Big tree across the river, and Garnet.'

"What do you think this could mean?" she asked, showing Trew.

"I have no idea."

Martie quickly peeked at a page in the book. She recognized the handwriting as her mother's and the first thing that stood out was the name Martin Jones - her father. She could hardly wait to read what was written, but Trew urged her to get out of the house before the cops wondered what was taking them so long.

She was relieved to know that he was thinking the same thing as her. Even though it was wrong to withhold what could be a lead of some kind from the police, instinct told her that this particular item should not be shared.

Trew handed her the picture, which she carefully slid between the pages of the book. She then rushed to grab her bag of clothes and purse, and they exited the house hand in hand.

They returned to Fran's to find a pillow and blanket set out on the couch. It was late and Fran, Bryce and Ainsley were asleep already. They turned a living room lamp on low and settled on the couch to look through the journal. Trew lay back on the pillow and propped his feet on Martie's lap, allowing her to read it alone.

The first entry was dated May twenty-second with the numbers 132 beside. She began reading, hoping to find some sort of clue that could lead to her mother.

It became apparent very quickly that it was all about her mother's relationship with her father: how and where they met, dates they went on, when they moved in together, etcetera. The last entry, dated November second, 132 stated that she was pregnant and how overjoyed they were. She said she never thought she would have a baby, and how the news of the pregnancy would change everything. In the final entry she wrote, 'I have decided to tell him the truth about me. I believe and trust in his love. If we are to raise a child together, then I feel I must break my loyalty to the Agenda and divulge who and what I really am. I love him too much to keep a secret this big from him. I trust that he will relay it to no one.'

It took Martie only fifteen minutes to read it from start to finish. She closed the book loudly and dropped it into her lap. Not only had it given her nothing more to go on, it had only raised more questions.

Her mind started reeling again. What if her father was taken by 'them' because her mother had told him about her mysterious past? That could explain why she had never told Martie or Fran her secrets - she was too afraid they would meet the same fate. Or maybe the big secret was too much for her father to handle, so he left. Her final thought, which saddened her deeply, was that perhaps he left because she was pregnant, which meant he didn't want to be a dad. He didn't want Martie. There were too many questions and absolutely no answers.

Trew drew her into his arms as she related her findings from the journal. In her head she heard his soft words, _"We will figure this all out. I promise you."_ He kissed the top of her head.

It had been a very long day and they were both exhausted. She wanted more than anything to have Trew beside her in the guest bed. He would make her feel safe. He helped her to believe there would be a happy ending after all. But they were in Fran's house and had to abide by her rules, so after a deep passionate good night kiss, she left him on the couch and went to the guest bedroom.

Just as she was drifting off to sleep, she heard a small sound outside the bedroom door and his words came into her head, _"I'll see you in my dreams."_

Martie was surprised when she woke up, peeked at the clock and found that it was almost noon. She had been more exhausted than she realized. She clambered out of bed and went to the bathroom where she revived herself with a quick cool shower.

After getting dressed and drying her hair, she headed to the kitchen only to discover it was empty. The living room was the same. She wandered around until she finally found Trew in the study at the computer.

"Good morning." He greeted her with a smile. "Sleep well?"

"Apparently." She returned his smile and kissed the top of his head. He was looking as dreamy as ever, dressed in nothing but a pair of cut-offs. He placed his arm around her waist, pulling her closer to his side.

"Where is everyone?"

"Bryce is at work and Fran took Ainsley with her on some errands. Cute kid. She was upset that you were still in bed. Anyway, there are some sandwiches and salad in the fridge if you're hungry. I hope you don't mind, we ate without you."

"Actually, I'm famished," she admitted. "What're you doing?"

"Just checking messages. And then I thought I'd do some research. Maybe see if I can figure out where that picture in the journal was taken. You go eat."

"Okay. Let me know if you find anything."

In the fridge she found an egg salad sandwich and a green salad. She poured a glass of orange juice and settled at the table. Someone had left a newspaper on the table so she passed the time flipping through it. There were no more articles about her mother, so she started skimming some of the local news items.

Eventually, the words on the pages blurred as her mind wandered to the events of the previous night - and to Trew. Her cheeks warmed as she recalled telling him she loved him. She loved him so much she couldn't even explain it. The best part was that she had no doubt whatsoever that he felt the same for her. Her heart fluttered madly remembering they had made love and she realized that what she told him by the river in Calgary was true - she had been saving herself for him, even though she hadn't known it at the time. She knew that her mom would just love him and she couldn't wait for her to meet him...

The thought pained her. Would she ever meet him?

"Martie, come here." Trew's excited shout from the study startled her.

She rushed to his side.

"No luck with figuring out the photograph, but look at this," he said, pointing at the screen.

She bent and squinted at the computer monitor to see why he was so wound up. It was a painting. A portrait of a woman that looked very much like the sketch of her mother.

"Well? Doesn't that look familiar?" he asked.

Wide-eyed, she replied, "It does. It's just like the sketch, but it's painted. Where did you find this?"

He explained that he had been searching up her father's name, Martin Jones, which led to only dead ends. Then he remembered her saying her dad was supposedly an art teacher. In the search field he typed 'Martin Jones artist'. After clicking a few results, he came across the site of an artist named Martin Vinterstein. A quick scroll through some of his work and he found the painting.

"Here, look for yourself," he suggested, moving out of the chair. "Could this be your dad?"

She sat and started scrolling through the web site. All of the artwork shown were photos of original oil and acrylic paintings. It was beautiful work. The majority of his pieces were urban landscapes, but there were a few portraits as well.

She clicked on the info tab beside the one that resembled the sketch. It read, 'Piece 1 of 8 in the Magda Series. If you are interested in viewing the whole series, please contact the artist's agent directly or visit one of the artist's exhibits. Contact phone numbers and showing dates can be found on the home page.'

The Magda Series? Magda was the word written at the top of the sketch. She believed instantly that this had to be her father.

"So what do you think?" asked Trew impatiently.

"I think you're definitely on to something," she exclaimed, grabbing the phone on the desk.

She punched in the contact phone number listed on the site and held her breath while it rang, Trew watching her intently.

After seven rings someone finally picked up, "Joane Gatsby."

"Hi," Martie said, and attempting to sound professional, continued, "I'm trying to get in touch with Martin Vinterstein."

"Yes, I represent Mr. Vinterstein."

"Great," she said, trying not to sound too excited. "Can you please tell me how I can get in touch with him?"

"What is it in regard to?" There was an air of suspicion in the voice.

Martie was momentarily speechless, not knowing how to answer the question. Finally she stuttered, "It's umm...it's of a personal nature."

There was a brief pause. "Well, I'm sorry. I cannot give out personal contact information for any of my clients."

"But it's important."

"Sorry. I can't help you," she snapped.

Martie exhaled sharply. "Okay, fine. Can you get a message to him then?"

"You don't seem to understand ma'am." The voice at the other end of the phone was making it very clear that her time was being wasted. "I am not his personal secretary. I am not a message service. I am his agent. Period."

Click. She hung up.

Martie slammed the phone down with a growl. Why did one step closer always end up resulting in being shoved further backward? Trew, having listened in on the conversation, leaned over to take control of the computer mouse. His light breath on her cheek as he scrolled and clicked was enough to calm Martie.

"Here," he said. "His work is on display for the entire month of July at the Caulderdon Gallery in Vancouver, B.C. His bio says that he lives in Vancouver too."

"Road trip?" she asked with raised brows.

"Road trip!" he agreed with his wicked grin.

They were in the middle of loading their bags into the trunk of her car when Fran pulled into the driveway beside them. She got out and marched to them, placing her hands on her hips. "What's going on?" Ainsley followed close behind and skipped to Martie. She smiled up at her and wrapped her body around Martie's thigh. Trew winked at the little girl and ruffled her hair.

Martie look earnestly into Fran's eyes. "I think I've located my father. We're going to go talk to him. He might have an idea where Mom is."

Her face was overtaken by a frown. "Where is he?"

"Vancouver."

"Vancouver? As in B.C?" She dropped her hands.

Martie nodded.

Ainsley piped up and whined, "But you just got here Martie. Please don't go." She hugged her leg tighter. Martie smiled down at her.

"Fran," Trew said. "I'll be with her the whole time. I promise to never let her out of my sight"

After a quick glance at him, Fran turned a glare to Martie. "Absolutely not. I'm responsible for you until this whole mess gets sorted out. No. My answer is no."

"But this is really important," she pleaded. "It might even help get this whole mess sorted out. Please Fran. I need to find my mom. I can't just sit around and wait."

Her face softened and she took Martie's hands. "Martie, I was a wreck the whole time you were in Calgary. I was so worried. Have some faith that the police will find her, or that she'll turn up on her own. I'm sorry, but no. You're not going and that's final."

Ainsley cheered with glee at the news.

Martie's heart raced and tears threatened. She wasn't rebellious by nature, but she knew this had to be the exception. "No, I'm the one who is sorry. I have to do this. I'm going with or without your permission." She slammed the trunk shut, and bent to whisper in Ainsley's ear. "I'm sorry. I have to go. I'll see you soon, okay?" She gently pried the sulking little girl from her leg and marched to the passenger door. Trew followed her lead and got in to the driver's seat, giving Fran an apologetic look.

"I'm sorry," Martie said one last time before sitting down and closing the door.

Trew backed the car out of the driveway, leaving Fran standing there, her mouth gaping, her eyes sad. Ainsley held her mother's hand, looking miserable. A lone tear trickled down Martie's cheek as they drove away. She couldn't bring herself to wave good-bye. She couldn't even look back at her.

CHAPTER NINE

The return drive to Calgary was uneventful and the hot sun had fully set when they arrived at Trew's house. They entered the front door to find Larry much the same as he had been the first time they entered the house together: sitting in a recliner in front of the television, wearing nothing but his underwear. The only difference this time was that Brandi was no longer there.

He greeted them in his usual surly way, and this time didn't even bother to go put some pants on. Martie took that as a sign that he was becoming more comfortable with her. Unfortunately she didn't think she'd ever be comfortable with him. The way he looked at her made her skin crawl. It was as if he could see right inside her, and what he saw was something she wasn't even aware of herself.

"Hey Dad," Trew said. "Just gonna grab a bite and then get some shut eye. We're hitting the road again first thing in the morning for Vancouver."

"Okay," Larry said distractedly, his eyes not leaving the T.V. screen.

They went to the kitchen and Martie waited while Trew dug through the contents of the fridge. He pulled out a bowl of leftover chicken with rice, and put it in the microwave. Martie poured them each a glass of water and set out plates and cutlery. They were dishing out the food when Larry came strolling in. Standing in front of the table between the two of them, he cocked his head to the side to give Trew a confused look.

"Where did you say you were going?"

"Vancouver." Trew shoved a big forkful of food into his mouth.

"Vancouver...as in British Columbia?"

"Yeah, that's the one." He smirked at Martie.

Larry shook his head as if to say 'crazy teenagers,' and started heading back toward the living room. Suddenly he stopped and turned slowly back. "Why are you going to Vancouver?"

Trew swallowed the food in his mouth and replied, "We think we might have found Martie's dad, so we're going to talk to him. Hopefully he might have some info that could help find her mom."

Larry's eyebrows scrunched together and his eyes narrowed. That combined with his flaring nostrils made the fork stop on its way to Martie's mouth. "You're not going," he barked.

Trew put his fork down and stared at his dad in disbelief. "What? Why not?"

Tense silence began, with the exception of the clock, which as usual, threatened to drive Martie mad. But she was curious as to why he changed his mind so suddenly, and waited, not breathing, for his answer.

"It's too far," he mumbled. "I forbid you to go."

Trew laughed. "Since when do you forbid me to do anything?"

"As of right now," he sneered. "You're still a minor."

Instinct told her that Trew was not one to back down when fighting for something he believed in, and he truly believed that finding her father would lead to finding her mother. But Trew also knew his dad, and Martie guessed that arguing with Larry about anything would be a lost cause.

Tension thickened the air as she looked back and forth at Trew and Larry glaring at each other. The clock and its incessant ticking didn't help her feel any easier.

Finally Trew backed down. "Fine," he sneered. "We won't go." Then he spoke silently to Martie. _"He works tomorrow. We'll leave after he's gone."_

Relief washed over her and she noticed a bubble of excitement rise inside her. She could be meeting her dad the next day. But the bubble quickly popped when she remembered he might not be as thrilled to meet her.

They hit the road sometime in mid-morning the next day. Once outside of Calgary, Trew took over driving, and sometime after crossing the B.C. border Martie had fallen asleep.

The sensation of the car coming to stop jolted her awake. Lifting her head and rubbing her neck, she looked around. They had pulled into a gas station in what appeared to be a road stop, consisting only of the service station with attached convenience store and restaurant, and a small motel. Deep, dense forest surrounded it all.

"Where are we?" she asked.

"I'm guessing it's called Blink."

Sure enough the sign on the motel read The Blink Inn and the restaurant was called The Blink Diner. "Yeah. Not much here. I guess if you 'blink' you'll miss it." This gave them both a good chuckle.

Trew started filling up the gas tank while Martie went to use the washroom and stock up on munchies.

As she was walking back to the car, her eyes were drawn to the other side of the highway. There was a small parking lot with a tiny log cabin behind it. The sign on the front of the cabin read, 'Penn's Hiking Trail and Overnight Cabins'. She sprinted excitedly toward Trew, pointing and saying, "Look!"

His gaze followed her finger to the other side of the road, and then flickered back to her. "What?"

"Trew," she breathed. "Blink. Penn's..."

He paused briefly in thought before his eyes lit up when it finally came to him. "From the back of the picture."

"Yes!"

"What were the other words?" he asked.

"Something about a river." She got in the car and pulled the picture from her purse. He followed suit, taking his place behind the wheel. "Big tree across the river, and Garnet."

"Let's check it out."

They parked in the lot across the highway and entered the little cabin where a lone desk had a balding man sitting behind it. The rest of the room was empty, with the exception of big glossy nature photos covering the walls.

"Welcome to Penn's." The man greeted them with a smile.

After a short discussion they learned that the hiking trail followed the Bisquette River and ended almost nine kilometers one way. There were twelve private cabins located at the end for overnight stays. They would have to pay up front for accommodation. Coffee and muffins were offered in the morning, but they would be required to pack in any other meals or snacks.

Overcome with curiosity over the fact that two of the four things listed on the back of the picture were here, they felt a one day delay would not be a big deal. Trew filled out the required form while Martie paid the man in cash. Thankfully he didn't question their age, and Trew's driver's license wasn't examined closely.

They told the man they needed to pick up some food for later and wanted a quick lunch in the restaurant before hitting the trail.

The meal was good and left them both feeling energized, and ready to tackle nature. They were eager to solve the mystery of the picture, and both felt this could not be purely coincidence. Neither of them believed that the end of the trail would actually lead to the city, but they hoped it would give them an answer of some kind.

Trew had packed his things in a backpack, so they filled it with only what they thought would be needed for the night. Not wanting to leave the money unattended in the car overnight, they stuffed it in as well.

They hiked along at a good pace, stopping every now and then to admire the scenery and take pictures on their phones. It was a beautiful walk, with the river flowing leisurely on their right. The smell of tall pine trees was strong, with the sun poking through here and there to light up the scattering of needles that crunched beneath their feet. Birds chirped high above and the noises of little creatures could be heard now and then as they scurried along a branch or behind a bush.

Martie had been worried that the hike would take a long time and leave them rushing through the dense forest after dark. But her worry had been for nothing and they found the end of the trail about an hour before the sun started to set.

They located the host cabin to let them know they had arrived and to pick up the key to their own cabin. After dumping their things, they headed out to explore, wanting to make the most of what was left of the daylight.

They went straight to the rickety old bridge that crossed the river and once on the other side, stopped to look around. Trew spotted it first, not far off into the woods. While all the other trees had long thin trunks, this one boasted a broad thick one. It was obviously a very old tree and it looked strangely out of place in this forest. He grabbed Martie's hand and they sprinted toward it.

At the tree, they were far enough into the forest that they could no longer see the cabins on the other side of the bridge. The deep brown old trunk had a circumference that Trew couldn't come close to wrapping his arms around. Little bits of green growth clung to it here and there. The two of them stood for a long time, touching and examining.

"Now what?" asked Martie.

Trew shrugged and looked around in all directions. "Well this has to be the tree. There are no other big trees here. Just tall skinny ones."

Martie agreed with a nod.

"What was the last word - Garnet?"

"Uh-huh."

He tilted his head to look toward the top. "What exactly is garnet?"

"It's a stone of some kind. I think it's a reddish color, but I'm not sure. Maybe we should be looking for a garnet stone," she suggested.

They spent the remainder of the light offered by the sun scanning the ground around the tree for garnet stones, patting the trunk from top to bottom all the way around as far up as they could reach, and looking up into the branches for something that looked reddish. But they were stumped. They felt sure they had located the right tree in the right place. There was no possible way the words on the back of the photo could come together in any other way. The problem was that they didn't know exactly what they were looking for.

Disappointed, they crossed back over the river with hanging heads.

Before settling into their cabin, they made a brief stop at the host cabin. They felt there was nothing left to lose, and had decided to ask the host for help. Unfortunately the host had nothing to offer. No, there were no major garnet deposits in the area that he was aware of. And, no, he had never seen the city in the picture before.

They thanked him and went to their own cabin feeling spent.

The cabin was very small, but it had a rustic, cozy feel to it. The sparse furniture was also made from various types of wood with logs used where ever possible.

Trew sprawled on the bed while Martie sat down on one of the log chairs at the table. She was surprised to find she could get cell service here and sent Fran a quick text to let her know they were okay. Then she messaged Becky to let her know what was going on - at least as much as she could tell her. Becky had some good gossip to share and they spent a good twenty-five minutes going back and forth.

Leaving her phone on the table, she flopped down on the bed beside Trew, causing his body to bounce a bit on the bed. She giggled and snuggled on top of his back to hug him.

"Thanks," she said.

Turning his head to the side, he asked, "For what?"

"You know...for coming with me. For helping me. There's no way I could do this alone."

He flipped his body over in a quick maneuver to face her. "Martie, don't you know that you're my whole world now? I'd do anything for you." His expression was solid, his eyes intense. Yes, she did know this, because she felt the same about him. But it was good to hear it.

The rest of the evening was spent lying on the bed talking, getting to know one another better. They talked of their childhood, their opinions on controversial topics, and many other things.

Martie was curious about his mother and asked if he was willing to talk about her. He was very nonchalant about the subject. The gist of the story was that his dad had hooked up with her and she became pregnant. They lived together for a while, but after Trew was born she decided she had no desire to be a mother. She was a party girl with dreams of stardom and a baby was cramping her style. So she left and never looked back. Larry raised him alone from the time he was an infant.

It was heartbreaking for her to hear. How horrible it would be to know that your mother never wanted you, although it did mirror her own story, with her not knowing for sure if her father wanted her. She felt sad for Trew even though it didn't seem to bother him in the slightest.

"My dad tells me that I look a little like her, which makes sense, because I'm not the massive guy he is. And apparently I have her personality too - Dad says she was a people person and a little rebellious."

Trew laughed heartily when Martie blurted out, "Thank goodness for that." She instantly felt bad, not meaning to have insulted his dad. "I'm sorry, it's just that your dad is kind of...you know...scary."

"No need to explain or apologize. I know what my dad is like. But, I have to say, when it comes right down to it...when you really need him for something, he comes through. And he's a good person to have on your side."

They discussed their dreams again, trying to analyze why they had been dreaming about each other all their lives. She confessed that she never even considered that her dream boy was a real living person. He on the other hand, claimed that he always believed she was real. For a time he would go and sit at the mall, scanning every girl that walked by, thinking he might find her there. This idea had sprung from a dream that took place at a mall. He did this for almost a year before giving up. They also found it curious that they were unable to control what they said or did in their dreams. Even so, they both thought it was an incredible thing, even if they never figured it all out.

"Do you think you'll ever tell anyone?" he asked.

She was unsure what he meant.

"You know...about the dreams, and about how we can talk to each other in our heads."

She thought about it for a moment. "I'd tell my mom," she said sadly, omitting 'if she were here.'

Trew's soft eyes watched her with concern. He knew that she was both excited and nervous about possibly meeting her father. But he also knew that she had doubts that talking to him would actually lead to finding her mother. It had been over seventeen years since they last saw each other. How could he possibly know where Maggie was or who took her?

The other thing that had been on her mind lately was if her mom had loved her father so much, how could she just let him go? Martie thought back to the times she had seen her mother crying on her bed with the locket of his picture in her hand. If she was in that much pain without him, why did she never try to contact him? Even if he had changed his name, if he actually was Martin Vinterstein, it wouldn't have been that hard to find him. Trew had found him in a matter of minutes.

Then again, there was the chance that he wasn't her father, in which case the whole trip would be for nothing.

Trew was playing with her hair and rubbing her back. His touch was incredibly soothing. She thought how funny it was that they found each other in a time of such tragedy. She hoped it didn't mean the universe was giving her a trade-off. Her mother leaves and her soul mate arrives. No, she told herself, and began a silent chant in her head, 'I will find my mom, I will find my mom...'

Eventually Trew's magic touch soothed her right to sleep.

It was slow going through the mountains the next day, but the scenery was breathtaking. Dense forests, winding roads, tunnels in the sides of mountains, and the odd glimpse of wildlife left Martie feeling like she was in another world. She was amazed that it was all so close to home, and yet with all the traveling she and her mom had done, they'd never been through this area of their very own country.

Approximately three hours from their destination, she was at the wheel and Trew was nodding off beside her in the passenger seat. The exhilaration of closing in on where her father lived had her adrenaline pumping and her foot pressing heavy on the gas, as she zoomed along the double lane highway. She was enjoying passing cars, and each time she did, she followed the rules of the road perfectly, sliding back into the right lane after passing.

She couldn't count how many times she had maneuvered in and out to pass, but she took note at one point that another vehicle was doing the exact same thing a couple of cars behind her. It was a large black SUV with very darkly tinted windows. She told herself it must simply be someone driving at an identical pace to hers. However, with everything that had been happening, she couldn't help but feel a little paranoid. Wanting to test what would happen, she passed a few more cars, observing the SUV carefully in her rear view mirror. It followed her lead precisely, but always staying a couple of cars back.

Just a coincidence, she told herself. But it nagged at her. She wanted to know for sure.

A couple of kilometers up the road she found a rest stop and turned into it, keeping her eyes on the mirror. Sure enough, the SUV slowed and pulled onto the shoulder of the road, staying a little back. Martie waited and watched, unsure what to do.

"Why'd we stop?" asked Trew, now awake. The sudden sound of his voice startled her, but she didn't take her eyes off the mirror. Trew followed her stare, cranking his head to look back at what had her gawking.

"I think we're being followed," she told him.

He turned back to her. "Yeah, we are," he said. "I noticed quite a while ago."

"What! Why didn't you tell me?" She was shocked and angry.

He shrugged. "I'm sorry. I wasn't a hundred percent positive. And I didn't want to freak you out."

"Okay," she easily forgave him. "Well I'm positive. The question is what to do about it."

He considered for a minute or two. "Well for starters we should only get out of the car in places where there are lots of people around."

She nodded in agreement.

"I doubt we can lose him on the highway," he said. "But once we get to the city we might be able shake him."

Having kept a nervous eye on the SUV, Martie noted that no one had moved from it.  
"Do you think it's the people who took my mom?" she asked.

His expression was one of pity. "I think it has to be. Who else would be following us?"

When she didn't reply he grabbed her hand and squeezed. "C'mon, we're almost to Vancouver. Want me to drive?"

She squeezed back appreciatively. "After our next stop. I have to pee and we should top up the tank."

About half an hour down the highway she turned into a very busy truck stop. With people everywhere she was hoping their pursuer would leave them alone. She parked beside one of the gas pumps, turned off the engine, and waited.

The black SUV pulled into the area, but hung back, parking near the shoulder of the road. There was no movement, so whoever it was, was staying put \- for now. She noticed for the first time that the vehicle had a rental sticker on the front bumper. She decided whoever it was must not be from around there.

Trew offered to stay with the car to fill up the gas tank, and keep an eye on the SUV, while she went in to use the washroom and buy them each a drink.

Her heart beat out of control the whole time she was in the store. She used the washroom as fast as humanly possible and quickly selected two drinks from the cooler. The line up to pay had three people in front of her. It moved painfully slow. So slow that she found herself squirming nervously on the spot and sweating profusely, even though the place was heavily air conditioned. She kept bobbing her head around trying to peek out the window, but from where the cash register was situated she could see neither Trew nor the mystery car. She was worried about Trew and knew she wouldn't be satisfied until she was by his side again.

Finally it was her turn. The kid behind the counter rang up her purchases to a total of three dollars and some change. She passed him a twenty and told him to keep the change. He watched her wide-eyed as she rushed out the door.

Panic set in when she saw her car was no longer at the pump. Frantically she scanned the giant lot, craning her neck to see between semi-trucks, cars and people. The sun was too bright, it was too hot and she was drenched. Her chest was being squeezed by some invisible force. There were too many colors, too much movement, she couldn't concentrate. The blood drained from her head. She thought she was going to pass out...

"Martie, over here!" Trews voice brought her back from her near black out. She whipped her head around to find the person attached to the voice. She sighed when she located him standing at the far end of the building waving at her.

She started to run to him, but her legs wouldn't cooperate. It was as though every muscle had turned to pudding. He sprinted forward and grabbed her just as she was going down.

"Jesus, Martie, what happened?" His voice was shrill with worry." He helped her to the car, reached into the shopping bag she still clutched, and pulled out a cold drink. He opened it and handed it to her.

"Are you okay?"

She took a long drink, put the cap back on and pressed the wonderful chill of the bottle to her forehead, cheeks and back of her neck.

"I'm okay," she breathed. "I'm not sure, but I think I had some sort of panic attack."

He kissed the top of her head. "You sure you're okay?"

"Yeah. Can we just get outa here?"

On their way to the exit back to the highway they drove slowly past the front of the SUV. They tried desperately to see the identity of their pursuer. But not only were the windows darkly tinted, the sun was hitting the windshield dead on, creating nothing but a blinding glare. Still overheated and sweaty, a chill ran through Martie's entire body as she realized that she couldn't see whoever was in there, but they could see her perfectly.

The second they pulled back onto the highway, the SUV started up and exited the truck stop, heading in the same direction, making a point to stay two cars behind them.

CHAPTER TEN

Vancouver was a big and very busy city, both exciting and intimidating to Martie. Using an app on Trew's phone she was able to punch in the address for the Caulderdon Gallery so they could navigate how to get there. The black SUV had managed to stay on their tail and was now hovering four cars behind them.

A little bit of luck and good timing was all it took. The traffic in the downtown area was very heavy and Trew hit the tail end of a yellow traffic light, just sliding through. Their pursuer was forced to stay put at the red light. Instead of following the directions exactly, which would have meant continuing straight on the main street for another five blocks, Trew improvised, took the first right, and then the next left. He continued going back and forth between streets while Martie kept track of their destination on the little screen of his phone.

"I'm pretty sure we've lost them," he announced with grin.

She sank into her seat, feeling relaxed for the first time all afternoon.

Not wanting to take the chance of meeting up with the SUV again, they kept meandering around the streets before finally finding their destination. Unfortunately the only available parking they could find was right on the street in front of the gallery, making it easy for someone to find them.

Trew shut the engine off and turned to her with an encouraging smile. She could also see worry in his eyes. "Are you ready?" he asked.

Martie took a big breath and exhaled slowly. She then returned his smile and nodded. She knew there was worry in her eyes too. Was she about to find her father? And if so, would he be receptive to her? There was only one way to find out.

"I'm ready," she announced.

They strolled hand in hand through the front doors of the gallery. She was so relieved to have Trew with her. He had awakened a courageous part of her that had been sleeping her whole life. No matter what was going to happen now, she was going to have his support.

A girl only a few years older than Martie sat behind a counter near the entrance. She had short curly hair and big round eyes behind trendy glasses. She welcomed the two of them with a big cheesy grin.

"Good afternoon," said her high-pitched voice.

They smiled back and said hello.

"Please have a look around and let me know if you have any questions," she instructed. "My name is Denise."

After thanking her they strolled away from the desk.

The gallery branched off from the main entry into four separate rooms. They wandered into the first to find it filled mostly with what appeared to be garbage made into pieces of art. It was interesting, but too junky for Martie's taste.

A large board just inside the entry of the second area grabbed their attention immediately. It announced that all of the artwork in that room was that of Martin Vinterstein. Her eyes quickly scanned the walls to see that the majority of his paintings were of urban landscapes, many of which had been shown on the website. Seeing them in person was different, though. She liked them immediately, and walked closer to get a better look. Trew released her hand to wander and do his own viewing.

The paintings were beautifully done, each one capturing its own feeling or emotion. She didn't know much about art, but she knew what she liked, and these were the type of paintings she would be proud to display on her own wall.

"Martie, come here," she heard Trew utter. He was at the far wall.

She looked in his direction and quickly saw what had his attention. On the far left side of the wall was the painting of her mother they had seen on the website. It was quite large in person, and as Martie drew closer, she speechlessly admired the flawlessly painted details of her mother's face. It almost felt like she was right in the room with her. She gazed up at her mother's likeness, a face she knew so well. It was the face Martie had run to as a child, for comfort after every scraped knee, and oddly she realized now it was the face of someone she barely knew. To the right of this painting were seven more, spaced and aligned perfectly, with a little plaque centered above all of them: 'The Magda Series'.

She walked along slowing, examining each one of them carefully. The first was the only close-up, but there was no denying that the woman in all of the other pictures was the same person - her mother. In all the others she was shown in the distance; on a park bench eating an ice-cream cone, walking on the beach, standing in a toy store gently caressing a slightly protruding ball of a belly.

A large ache formed in Martie's throat and moisture pooled in her eyes. She could have stayed there all day and all night just staring at the beautiful images of her mom.

She took a deep breath to pull herself together. There was no question they were on to something and she wouldn't allow herself to stand there blubbering. She had to go find her father.

She took Trew's hand, and planted a firm kiss on his lips. "C'mon," she said.

Denise rose from her chair and greeted them with the same big toothy smile when they returned to the counter.

"Hi," Martie said. "We're interested in the works by Martin Vinterstein."

"Oh yes. They are lovely, aren't they?"

She nodded enthusiastically. "We're wondering, Denise..." She had once heard someone say that when you use a person's first name just after meeting them, it makes you seem more sophisticated. She wasn't sure if it was true or not, but at that moment she would do anything to get Denise on her side. "...you see we'd really like to speak to Mr. Vinterstein directly, and ask him some questions about his paintings."

"Oh." She clapped her hands together. "You're in luck." She started flipping through some papers on the counter.

Trew and Martie glanced at each other with victorious grins.

"Yes, here it is," Denise said, holding up a piece of paper. "Martin Vinterstein will be here the evening of July thirty-first for one of our 'Meet the Artist' nights. She was grinning like she had just told them they'd won the lottery.

Martie's heart dropped. "Oh, you don't understand," she explained. "We're not from Vancouver. Actually we're not even from B.C. We've come a long way and we'd really like to speak to him right away."

Denise blinked.

Trew decided to try some male charm. He leaned in close to the desk so his gorgeous face and intense brown eyes were only inches from her face. "Denise," he purred, "Surely you have the contact information for the artists who are on display here."

Denise very obviously swallowed and light dew appeared on her forehead. Wow, he's good, Martie thought. Then for the briefest moment she wondered how many other girls he had used this charm on before, and what he'd used it for. She quickly tossed that thought aside.

He continued. "We would just like to phone him. That's all Denise. No harm in a phone call, right?"

Poor Denise looked like she had stopped breathing. Then suddenly she shook her head and took a step back. She adjusted her glasses and sat down. "I'm terribly sorry," she said through thin determined lips. "But I am unable to give you any personal information."

"Please. It's really important. He's my father." Martie had to give one last attempt.

Denise glared. The big cheesy smile was no longer. Her lips had turned into a tight little speck on her face. "Well if that's true, then you should already have his phone number," she stated matter-of-factly.

"But..."

She put her hand up to stop Martie's words. "Sorry. Now if you'll excuse me." She abruptly turned away from them.

Despairingly, Martie looked to Trew, who could only give her a half grin. Her shoulders slumped as she turned and walked toward the door, with Trew following right behind her. She looked to the floor as she felt the nasty burn of tears forming in her eyes. It had all been a waste of time. She hadn't found her father, and she would never find her mother. It was time to face reality. She was gone forever.

The top of her head suddenly smacked the chin of someone who was walking in the door just as she was walking out. "I'm sorry," she mumbled, as simultaneously the man she had just bumped into said, "Oh, excuse me."

She slowly looked up to see who she might have accidently injured, and was shocked to be looking directly into a pair of bright green eyes almost identical to her own. All she could do was to stare in disbelief, and he too was staring at her with a similar stunned expression.

This was him. She knew it was him. She could sense it. And yet she was frozen in place and completely without words. The man she had wondered about her whole life was standing in front of her. He was so close that she could've reached out and touched him, and yet she was stunned immobile.

Trew came to the rescue. "Are you Martin Vinterstein, sir?"

Without taking his eyes off Martie he replied, "Yes. Yes I am."

"Great," said Trew, and though Martie wasn't looking at him she could hear the smile in his voice. "We've been trying to get in touch with you. My name is Trew and this is Martie. Her mother is missing and we were hoping you might know where she is."

There was a long pause until Martin finally tore his gaze away from her to quickly acknowledge Trew. Then he resumed looking at her, but his eyes had softened. "I'm terribly sorry. I don't mean to stare. It's just that you have eyes just like my mother. She passed some time ago, and well...I guess I was shocked to see those eyes." Then he focused on Trew. "I'm sorry. What did you say your name was?"

"Trew."

An eyebrow shot up when Trew repeated his name. He gave him a thorough look up and down and said, "Not a name you hear every day is it?"

Martie had managed to recover her brain. Not sure if Martin had completely heard Trew before, she said, "I'm Martie. Martie Johnson, Maggie's daughter. Can you help us find her?"

He blinked. "Maggie? I'm sorry, but I don't know anyone name Maggie." He gave them a friendly smile. "It was nice meeting you both. Now if you'll excuse me..." He started toward Denise.

Martie wasn't ready to let him get away that easily, regardless of whether or not he wanted to acknowledge that she was his daughter. "Magda," she said loudly. "My mother's name is Magda."

He stopped in his tracks and cranked his neck around. When his eyes met Martie's, they were wide with shock. His lips were parted slightly, revealing his bottom row of teeth. In the background, Martie could see Denise sitting in the chair behind the desk looking at all of them curiously.

"Please," she begged. "Can you please help us find her? You're our only hope. If you know anything...anything at all."

He remained silent, unmoving. Trew clutched Martie's hand tight, and they waited, standing in the door way, for Martin to say something.

Finally he closed his mouth and his eyes lost a bit of roundness. He nodded. His face then took on a serious look. "I think the three of us need to sit down and talk in private," he said. "I just need to speak to Denise for a moment, and then if it's all right with the two of you, we can go to my studio."

Martie and Trew agreed, thanking him with grateful smiles, then took a seat off to the side to wait for him to take care of his business.

Martie observed him carefully as he was speaking with Denise. He was a small man, perhaps only a couple of inches taller than she was, and his build was quite slim, but not in a sickly, too skinny way. He had very short sandy colored hair thinning on top. She noticed that he put on a pair of glasses when Denise handed him a piece of paper to look over. But the thing that had struck her the most about him was his eyes. Her mother's eyes were brown. His were green, and not just any green. They were a bright emerald green just like Martie's.

When he had finished, they followed him outside where he pointed out his blue sedan. They agreed to follow him in her car to his studio.

As she pulled onto the street, her heart rate increased. Excitement took over. This was her dad. He hadn't pushed her away - at least not yet. She couldn't know for sure what was about to take place, but that didn't stop the enthusiasm she felt. Not only did he want to talk with her, but he might just have the answers she had been looking for.

Just over half an hour later they arrived at Martin's studio. They discovered when they exited the car, that not only was it his studio, but his home as well. It was a beautiful big old house that had obviously been well maintained over the years. A well-manicured lawn sat amongst beds of colorful flowers.

Upon their arrival, a little boy came bursting out the front door, excitedly yelling, "Dad!" Martin scooped him up in his arms, twirled him around and gave him a bear hug followed by a kiss on the cheek. There was a moment of happy whispers and nose rubs that left Martie feeling a stabbing pang of jealousy.

He set the boy down and ruffled his hair. "Adam, I'd like you meet my new friends. This is Martie and Trew." The boy smiled shyly and said hello. "We need to spend some time in my studio. Can you please let Mom know that I'll be busy for a while?" He nodded to his dad and scurried back to the house.

At the end of the driveway, near the back of the house was a garage with an outer stairway on one side that led to an upper floor. Martin used the entire space above the garage as his studio. Martie and Trew followed him up.

The large room boasted many windows that welcomed in natural light. Tripods and canvasses were scattered here and there, and numerous finished or partially finished paintings leaned against most of the wall space. In one corner was a large table covered with paints, brushes, and many other art paraphernalia. Beside the table was a tiny kitchenette with a small bar fridge, a sink and a coffee maker.

"Can I offer you a coffee or a drink?" he asked.

Martie's excitement had morphed into nervousness, making her throat dry and rough, so she gladly accepted a bottle of water. He gestured for them to sit on an old ratty looking love seat, then pulled a bar stool from the big table to sit facing them. Even though she could tell he was nervous too, he had a quiet gentle way about him which put her at ease. Trew rested his hand on her thigh and she covered his hand in her own. Not knowing where to begin, they both stared at Martin in anticipation.

He cleared his throat and gave them a small wary grin. "So what can I do for you?" he asked.

Martie inhaled as Trew squeezed her leg. "Well," she eyed Martin cautiously. "I think you're my father."

He didn't flinch. But he did look at her with sad eyes. "I'm sorry, but that is not possible. I have only a son, and he's eight years old."

She opened her purse and pulled out the old sketch. Unfolding it she said, "As I mentioned, my mom's name is Maggie, but I think you knew her as Magda." She held the picture up.

He gasped and took the paper gingerly. Tears welled up in his eyes as he looked back and forth from the drawing to Martie's face. "But..."

She chewed her lip, waiting for him to finish his sentence.

"But, this is impossible. They took Magda home. The pregnancy would have been terminated. How? What? I don't understand..."

"They?" she interrupted. "Who took her home? Where is home?"

He started stammering and looked very confused. Finally he was able to get out a question of his own. "When were you born?" When she told him, his hands flew to his face and he began shaking his head, murmuring, "No. No. This can't be."

Suddenly he stood and walked over to the little fridge, pulled out a bottle of water and gulped back half all at once. Trew and Martie remained silent to let him sort through his thoughts.

After a time, he walked back to where they were sitting and stood directly in front of Martie. "I thought she was gone. Please understand. I didn't think you would have ever been born. I'm so sorry..." His head was shaking back and forth, his eyebrows sullen, and he was staring out the window behind where Martie and Trew sat. "I don't understand..."

Then his eyes focussed and he looked at Martie. "Where did you grow up?"

"Regina."

"All your life?"

"Yes. I was born there."

He returned his gaze out the window, talking to himself again, "So Magda has been here the whole time. They didn't take her back after all. But why did she not get in touch with me?"

He paused, faced Martie, his expression pained.

"They made me change my name. Even gave me new ID. They made me move too. I was never sure why. I always thought it was their way of making sure the memory of Magda being here would be permanently erased... That's why I painted the Magda Series. It was my way of keeping her here forever. But she never left. She must have she escaped or perhaps they changed their minds and let her stay." He considered this for a moment. "Anyway, I moved from California to Washington State."

His gaze returned to the window and his eyes took on a dreamy look. "I grieved the loss of Magda. I loved her so much. But I got on with my life, I had to or I would've gone crazy - and eventually I met Susan. She was a gal from Canada. I moved north to be with her. We got married and had a son. It's just been in the past few years that my art career has taken off."

His eyes glossed over as he kneeled on the floor in front of Martie. He gently took her hand in his, and regarded her with a world of compassion in his face.

"Martie," he smiled. A single tear trickled slowly down his face. "Yes, I am your father. I'm so very sorry. I was sure they had forced Magda to go with them, and to abort our baby. If only..." He swallowed and another tear followed the path of the first one. "I'm sorry you had to grow up without your dad. I would have been there for you every single day of your life, had I known..."

Now she was crying too. Her dad hadn't abandoned her. Some of her tension dissolved as a small sense of relief flowed through her body. She released her hand from his and leaned forward, wrapping her arms around his neck. He did the same, and they held each other for a long time. Trew placed his hand on her back and gently caressed.

When the moment came to an end, both their faces were wet from silent tears. He pulled his stool closer so they could continue holding each other's hand.

"I'm named after you," she told him, and they smiled shyly at each other.

"So, you mentioned that Magda, er Maggie is missing?" he asked with sincerity.

She nodded. "All I know is she was taken by someone. She told her friend that 'they' came to take her back. Do you have any idea what that means, or who 'they' are?"

He cleared his throat and his face became serious. "I thought they took her back when she was pregnant with you. I had no idea that she was still on this earth. If only I had known..." he drifted off for a moment.

"Who are 'they'?" she asked.

"And what did you mean by still on this earth?" Trew added.

He looked at them with a baffled expression. "Didn't your parents ever tell you? Don't you know where they come from?" He was genuinely surprised.

Then it was their turn to look mystified. Trew spoke up, "What do you mean 'our' parents? What does any of this have to do with me? Martie and I just met a few days ago."

He smiled warmly. "Trew, I knew your dad too. He and Magda were the best of friends. I babysat you when you were a tiny baby." Every inch of Martie's skin became covered in goosebumps as she and Trew exchanged puzzled glances and looked back to Martin for more answers.

Martin sighed, but the warm smile remained on his mouth. "Martie, your mom, and Trew, your dad, are not from this earth. They come from a planet called Garnet."

"What?" blurted Trew, laughing. "You expect us to believe that our parents are aliens?" He glared at Martin incredulously and Martie couldn't blame him. She was thinking this must be some kind of cruel joke as well.

"No, no." said Martin soothingly. "They are human. They are descendants of people from our planet earth. Your mom came to study the cultures here, and your dad accompanied her - to look out for her." He was smiling at them like he'd just told them the most amazing news ever, but Trew and Martie could only stare at him in disbelief. Surely this man must be crazy. Martie's heart sunk as she started to wonder if there was something wrong her father's mental state.

Suddenly there was a shuffling sound coming from outside the closed door at the top of the stairs. Alarmed, they all turned their heads. The door flew open, banging the wall behind it. It was Larry. He came marching in with an enormous scowl. His intense stare was locked on Martin, and Martie couldn't help but feel fear for her newly found father.

Trew was on his feet. "Dad. What are you doing here? Did you follow us?" Larry didn't respond. "That was you in the black SUV, wasn't it?" Trew asked.

Larry quickly flicked his eyes at Trew then continued his stare down of Martin.

"Jesus Dad! How could you do that? You scared the shit out of us you know."

But Larry was intent on Martin. He hissed at him. " _This,"_ he said, "Is why we never tell any of you people about who we are and where we're from - you have no qualms against telling whoever you wish. Every time you tell someone means a possible threat to our world. Magda should never have told you. I warned her."

"Dad!" demanded Trew. "Answer me. Why would you rent a car and follow us?"

Larry tore his glare from Martin to quickly answer Trew. "If I'd been in my car, you would've known it was me, and there would have been a confrontation. I followed you to keep you from finding this man." He gestured to Martin with his chin. "Or at the very least to stop him from talking if you did find him. But I've arrived too late." He narrowed his eyes back to Martin and stood with arms crossed.

Martin stood to face Larry. Martie couldn't decide if he was brave or stupid because Larry must have had at least ten inches in height over him, and at least a hundred pounds in weight. "Larzel, how nice to see you again," he said, smiling widely.

Trew and Martie gasped in unison. "Larzel!" Of course.

Larry...Larzel, didn't respond. He remained glaring at Martin.

"Oh Larzel," scolded Martin. "First of all, I have never uttered a word about it to a soul until today. And second, these are your children. They have every right to know who their parents are and where they come from. Surely you don't seriously think your own flesh and blood, or Magda's, would be a threat to your world."

Martie's mind was reeling from information overload, attempting to put it all together. She looked to Trew, who had taken his seat again, and found him staring at his dad with a stunned expression.

There was a very long, very awkward silence.

Martin got up and rummaged through a large closet, then returned with a folding a chair. He opened it, set it across from the loveseat that Trew and Martie sat on, and gestured for Larzel to sit.

Larzel grumbled, but sat down. It amused Martie how easily the small man was able to stand up to and tame the large man.

Finally Trew spoke. "Dad, is it true?"

Larzel dropped his head and mumbled, "Yes, it's true."

"So you're from another planet? Really?"

He nodded.

"And Martie's mom is too?"

"Yes," he hissed through gritted teeth.

Trew stood again and marched to the opposite side of the room. He stood there with his back to them and Martie could practically see the anger and confusion swarming around his body. The news they had just been given was so far-fetched, so preposterous, that she herself wasn't sure what to believe. Their parents were from another planet! How? What? She rushed to his side. _"Are you okay?"_ she asked silently.

" _I don't know,"_ he answered and took her hand. _"It's just so hard to believe. It makes no sense."_

She thought for a moment, trying to put the pieces together. _"Think about it Trew. How your dad and my mom have always complained about the ways of the world. We've talked about how they are different from most parents. Also, Martin...my dad told us first. And your dad, who clearly doesn't like him, backed him up. As incredible as it is, it kind of makes sense."_

" _But why..."_ Trew's voice in her head became louder. _"Why all the secrecy?"_

She squeezed his hand. _"I don't know. Maybe you should ask your dad."_

They returned to their place on the loveseat and Trew immediately turned hard eyes on Larzel. "Why have you never told me? This is huge. I don't understand. Don't you trust me Dad?"

He looked frustrated. "Of course I trust you. But it's my job as a protector. It's part of the Agenda. We are not to speak to anyone about where we come from. I was just doing my job."

Martin handed Larzel a bottle of water. He drained it in one tip back.

It was Trew's turn to look frustrated. "Protector? Agenda? I don't understand any of this. And I'm your son. How could you not trust with me this?" He went eye to eye with Larzel, wearing the most serious face Martie had ever seen on him. "Dad," he practically whispered. "Don't you love me?"

Larzel's eyes popped, resembling large round globes. "Of course I love you," he shouted. "Why do you think I've stayed all these years? I hate it here. I've wanted to go home for so long, but I couldn't until you were old enough, until you were ready."

Trew's face was flushed with anger, but his eyes were sad.

When no one spoke for a while, Martie decided it was time to ask the question that had burned inside since her birthday, which hadn't been that long ago, yet seemed like months ago. "Excuse me. Can you tell me, do you know...is my mom okay?"

"She's on Garnet where she belongs. So that means not only is she unharmed, but she is in a safer place right now than any of us."

Curiosity burned inside her. "How did she get there?" she asked. "Do you have a space ship hidden somewhere?"

Larzel laughed. "Of course not. They took her back through the Doorway in Ireland."

Martie looked confused.

"It's like a portal," he explained.

Martie smiled in thanks, not completely sure what he meant. But she was satisfied for now to know that her mother was safe. She pulled from her purse the photograph and looked it over for a minute. She then held it up for Larzel to see. "This is Garnet, isn't it?" she asked.

He hesitated, but then nodded. "Yes it is."

The four of them sat in silence for a long time, lost in their own thoughts. It had been a lot for Trew and Martie to take in. They had accomplished more than what they'd originally set out to do. Not only had they found out where Martie's mother was, and that she was unharmed, but they had found her father too. But in the process of doing this, many more questions had been raised, and they now had information that was hard to process. Martie was thankful not only for having found her father, but for the knowledge that he was a good man, and that he hadn't abandoned her or her mother. She was grateful to know that her mother was alive and well, and was trying to come to terms with the idea that she might never see her again.

It was Trew who finally spoke. What he said made her heart thump wildly, and it made Larzel stand and grimace. He said, "Dad, we're going to Garnet. You have to take us to the Doorway thing. Martie needs to see her mother."

"That is forbidden. Even if I did show you the way, which I won't, you wouldn't make it two steps before getting kicked back to Earth." His no nonsense tone made it clear that this was not up for negotiation.

But Trew wasn't ready to give up so easily. Their parents were not the people they believed them to be. For starters, their real names were Magda and Larzel, but the big shocker had been the discovery that they were from another planet. They had unwittingly walked into a science fiction movie. He wanted explanations and answers, and he felt the best way to get them was to go to Martie's mother. He took the photo from Martie, and held it up in front of his dad again, but this time he flipped it over. "These words on the back...it's a clue isn't it? Another way to get there?"

Larzel's eyes grew round with shock. He quickly gained his composure and glared at Trew. "No of course not," he burst. "I don't know what the words mean."

Trew sat back and crossed his arms, looking satisfied. It must have been clear to him, as it was to Martie, that Larzel was lying. "We will get there, we will find her, with or without your help," he shot at his dad.

Larzel's fists clenched and his eyes burned fire. "You listen to me. There is absolutely no..."

Martin was back on his stool, and had taken on the role of mediator. "Larzel," he interrupted. "I think Trew and Martie deserve to know the whole story. I will tell them everything I know, as best as I can. But I think it would be best for them to hear it from you." His tone was kind and gentle, and a pride for her father swelled in Martie's chest.

Larzel glared at Martin as he got to his feet. "They already know too much thanks to you," he yelled. "You must not tell them anything else. You do not understand our world or our ways." He bent and moved his face to within an inch of Martin's. His eyes shot spears as he said, "You will tell them no more." With a growl, he stomped out the door, slamming it shut behind him. A minute later they heard the sound of tires squealing away.

Martin turned to Martie and Trew with a sad smile. They watched him wide-eyed.

"You'll tell us anyway, won't you?" asked Martie.

Martin shook his head. "I'm sorry," he said. "But he's right. It's not my place to give you information about a place I know so little about." He reached over and patted Martie's hand. "This must all be very difficult for the two of you to take in. I'm going to give you some time alone. I'll be back shortly, okay?"

Martie and Trew nodded.

"What do you think?" asked Trew when he'd left.

"I believe it. I believe it all. I don't know your dad very well, but I don't think anyone would get that upset over something that wasn't true."

"I agree," he said. "The question is what to do now. I wish my dad wasn't so damn stubborn."

It was a long time before Martin returned. Martie and Trew sat quietly, reflecting on all that had happened. It was a lot to take in, but the more she thought about it, the more the dots seemed to connect. Things her mother had said, that didn't make sense at the time, now came together clearly. She could tell that Trew was thinking along the same line, and she could visibly see the anger and frustration that he had directed toward his dad start to thaw.

Martin came back. He sat and told them they were welcome to stay the night, and longer if needed. He had talked to his wife, Susan, and explained that Martie was his daughter from a girlfriend from long ago. She was excited to meet Martie and welcome them into their home.

"She sounds like a very kind person," Martie said.

He was about to reply when they heard the creak of the door slowly swing open. Larzel stood there with four large pizza boxes. He walked in and set them on the little counter beside the sink. "Anyone hungry?" he muttered and pulled a piece from the top box.

Slowly they made their way to help themselves to a slice. Martie wasn't sure how to react to Larzel's return, and apparently no one else was either, because they all ate in silence. Everyone seemed to be in awe over Larzel's appetite, and watched in disbelief as he gobbled up two whole pizzas and a slice from another all by himself.

When he was finished, he left his place by the counter and sat in the folding chair by the loveseat.

He looked at Trew, and though his face remained serious, he smiled. "I'm proud of you son," he said. "And I'm sorry." Next his eyes fell upon Martie. "You remind me a lot of your mother," he said. Finally his gaze moved to Martin and he frowned. "I still think you should have kept your mouth shut. But since you've told them, they may as well know the whole truth. And I'll be the one to tell them since you would just misinform them anyway."

"While you're at it," said Martin, "Perhaps you can explain to me why no one thought to track me down all these years. Magda has been here this whole time. Do you have any idea how much I grieved her loss? And I have a daughter. I've missed out on seventeen years of her life. Why?"

In response, Larzel sighed heavily and rolled his eyes. He cleared his throat and the man of very few words prepared to begin. He would tell them, with a chest bursting of pride, all about his world. He would explain how it was that he and Magda came to be on Earth, and why they stayed much longer than they should have. He would give them the cold hard facts. He was not one to openly express emotions, but for the time being, the facts would do.

Silent expectation hung in the air for a moment. They waited for Larzel to begin.

Martin held her hand and winked at her. Trew squeezed her leg, and in their own special way he said to her, " _No matter what he says, we're going to Garnet. I will get you to your mom. I promise."_

###

Your opinion matters! Please take a moment to add your rating and review of

Sketch of Secrets (The Garnet Trilogy - Book 1)

For more information about the author, Willa Jemhart, and for other titles including:

Breaking the Agenda (The Garnet Trilogy - Book 2)

and

Doorway to Home (The Garnet Trilogy - Book 3)

Visit www.willajemhart.com

