

Real Illusions II

REBIRTH

Tanya R. Taylor

Copyright© 2015 Tanya R. Taylor

All Rights Reserved.

No portion of this work may be reproduced,

copied or transmitted in any form without the

expressed, written consent of the Author.

SIGN UP HERE.

Purchase online  
Book 1 in the Real Illusions series.

1

New Addition

Her blood-curdling scream filled the air, yet the woods behind the mansion was eerily quiet and paid no attention to her desperate cry for help. Tina Sheffield was staring at the thing that had just slid out of her — still attached to the other end of the umbilical cord. She wanted to get up and run out of there as fast as her legs could take her, but her physical connection to the one that shared her DNA prevented her from being able to do so. Furthermore, blood and a watery substance had settled beneath her and between them. She wished she had a pair of scissors, a knife or any sharp tool to cut the fleshy cord and separate herself forever from the newborn with the beaming, green eyes and grotesquely distorted face. She was hyper-ventilating and felt that she was about to lose all sense of consciousness when she heard a dangling of keys near the front door, then the door opening and shutting again.

"Tina, I'm home!" went the voice she was so relieved to hear.

"Trent!" She cried at the top of her lungs still staring at what lay in front of her. "Hurry! Please!"

Holding the plastic bag that contained the large bowl of vanilla ice-cream, Trent came upon a sight on his living room floor that absolutely shocked him.

"Oh my God! What in the world..." He quickly put the bag down and rushed over to Tina.

Tina was drenched in tears. "Get a scissors or a knife quickly, Trent! Cut the cord! Please cut this frigging cord!" She pleaded.

"Okay," Trent was suddenly feeling nauseous; his mind racing and unearthly thoughts flooding his brain. He ran to the kitchen for a large knife and seconds later, was back.

"Cut it!" Tina demanded.

"Where?" He asked nervously.

"Here!"

Trent's hand was shaking as he attempted to sever the umbilical cord. He looked away as the thing snapped cleanly in two. Tina backed away hurriedly, still on her buttocks as more liquid gushed from her body with the hasty movement.

"I'll... I'll get some towels," Trent said, rushing upstairs.

Tina sat against the wall shaking violently as if on the verge of a melt-down. The baby had managed to get a thumb near its lips and was now lightly sucking it. Trent returned moments later and took the large towel over to Tina. He helped her as she placed it against her vagina to stop the dripping. He then hurried over to the baby, knelt down beside it and gently picked it up.

"We have to get you to the hospital," Trent said to Tina.

With her eyes still fixated on the infant, she asked, "What is that?"

Trent grimaced. "Tina, it's our baby."

"No!" She protested. "It's not! It's not our baby, Trent! How could it be our baby?"

"Tina..."

"What do you mean it's our baby? Look at it! It's a monster! Can't you see?"

Trent was at a loss for words.

"What're we gonna do with it?"

"What do you mean?"

"I have to go to the hospital, so what're we gonna do with it?"

"Tina, the baby's coming with us," Trent said matter-of-factly.

"Oh no, it's not." She shook her head. There was now a strange calmness in her voice. "That thing is not coming anywhere with me. No one's gonna know that I gave birth to such a hideous, ungodly creature."

Then suddenly, her eyes widened as she saw that the child had instantaneously and inexplicably assumed full human form. His black hair was pencil straight and his eyes, brown and entrancing.

"Oh my goodness, do you see that?" She asked, as if disbelieving her own eyes.

"Yes, honey. I see our beautiful baby," Trent replied, realizing that something on the inside of Tina had snapped.

"What's wrong with me? Am I seeing things?" She asked earnestly.

He was afraid to answer. The baby started to cry.

"Bring him to me," Tina urged.

Trent carefully handed the child to her.

"He looks just like you, honey." She held the infant closely. "He has your eyes."

"He does. Doesn't he?" Trent smiled.

They gazed lovingly at the child whose arrival they had anxiously awaited. However, not envisioning for a moment that he would arrive into the world on his father's living room floor.

"We have to get you two to the hospital," Trent reminded Tina.

"Okay," she smiled, now accepting of the idea that both mother and baby would be going.

He took the baby and helped Tina up off the floor.

2

Preparation

Trent sat in the Waiting Room as hospital personnel tended to Tina and the baby. The newborn had been transported to the Pediatric Unit immediately after they had arrived at the hospital.

"Mister Matheson, that's a fine one you've got there," Nurse Annie Rodgers remarked. A woman well into her fifties, her smile was virtually angelic.

"Thanks Nurse. Is it possible for me to go in and see my wife now?" Trent asked, prematurely assigning the title to Tina.

"Not just yet. We'll need a few more minutes with her just to make sure that everything is fine and dandy, but I can check with the pediatrician to see if they're ready for you to come over."

"Thank you, Nurse. I'd appreciate that."

Nurse Rodgers walked off cheerfully as if she hadn't a care in the world. Watching her, Trent was immeasurably grateful for his own recent happiness. The worst part of his life was over since he had defeated Tarrow that night at the beach. In fact, his father had pretty much confirmed it. Sitting there, he envisioned a bright future ahead as he was now a father and would soon be wed to the woman of his dreams.

"Sir... you can come now." The nurse returned minutes later.

Trent got up to follow her.

Through the clear glass outside of the Unit, Trent could see his son in the incubator. He was sucking his thumb again.

"Do they usually start sucking their thumbs this early?" He asked Nurse Rodgers who was standing next to him.

"Actually, some babies start sucking their thumbs from inside the womb," she replied.

"Really?"

"Yes indeed. Have you and your wife chosen a name for him as yet?" Rodgers asked.

"His name's Foster. We decided to name him after my grandfather."

"Foster Matheson?" She asked.

Trent nodded.

"Was your grandfather the owner of First Provincial downtown?"

"Yes, ma'am. He was."

"Oh my... I had no idea that you were his grandson. He was such a nice man — helped my father out of some pretty tight spots when no one else would. It's such a pleasure to meet you today."

"Likewise." Trent smiled.

"Now that we're talking about this, I do see the resemblance," she added. "You definitely got your good looks from him; he was a very handsome man."

"Thanks." Trent blushed a little.

"Well, I'll leave you to it. The doctor will be out shortly to speak with you."

"Oh?" Trent wasn't sure he liked the sound of that.

"No worries... just procedure," Rodgers indicated, sensing the apprehension in his voice.

* * *

"Have a great day!" Solange smiled at the elderly couple who had just gotten up from the table.

"You too, dear," the woman, bent over slightly, replied as she walked off hand in hand with her husband who appeared to be a little less feeble than she was.

"Working double shift again today?" Sonia asked after clearing a table nearby.

Fung's was not so busy that time of morning. A crowd had been there earlier and another was expected around lunch-time. Sam Fung could be seen in the kitchen checking on progress as usual.

"I need the money, Sonia." Solange placed the dishes onto the tray and began wiping down the table. "The apartment I have now isn't exactly cheap, you know, and it's not like Mister Fung pays a lot of money here."

"Good for you that Chrissy just up and quit like that. Sam letting you work her shift was a nice gesture on his part," Sonia said.

"It's only until he finds someone else," Solange indicated.

Sonia had a cunning look on her face. "You and I both know that he could get that spot filled in an instant. I think he's prolonging until you say you've had enough. What gets me though is I can see these shifts are already taking a toll on you, girl. It's been two full weeks! You wouldn't have to be here slaving like this if you'd stop being mule-headed and go claim what's rightfully yours!"

"Not that subject again. I really don't want to hear it," Solange picked up the tray.

"Well, you need to! Who in their right mind would struggle like hell to earn a living when a truck load of money, you might as well say, is up for grabs? You need to work up the guts to speak with your brother, Liza. He's out there on easy street while you're here working your butt off for measly change!"

"Please... please, just stop," Solange shook her head tiredly. "Just give it a rest once and for all, Sonia. I told you whenever the time comes, I'll deal with it."

"Okay, but just know that I'm only looking out for you," Sonia said. "Most people would've already run towards what you're running away from without giving it a second thought."

"I know," Solange replied before they both walked off in different directions.

Sam Fung approached Solange after she entered the kitchen. She had just put the tray down. "Are you all right?" He asked.

"Yes, sir." She mustered up enough energy to sound convincing.

"Had enough of this double-shift yet?"

"No, sir. I'm doing fine. Thank you," Solange answered.

"Okay. Just let me know then."

"Yes, sir. I will." She hurried back out front to tend to customers coming in.

3

Despair

Azure wall-paper with little brown teddy-bears spotting it covered the walls of the nursery. The carpet was a matching blue and fairly fluffy. Little Foster was asleep in the large, maple crib - a white umbrella with attached animal ornaments hung a few inches above it.

"I still don't think we should've put this carpet down," Trent whispered near the doorway, holding Tina at the waist.

"The carpet is fine, honey. I understand your concern about allergies and all, but once the rug is kept clean, it won't be a problem," Tina remarked.

"I need to hire a full-time house-keeper now that the baby is here. She can also help out with the baby when you need a break."

Tina looked up at him— his eyes were enough to hypnotize her with burning lust every time she gazed into them. "The once per week cleaning service you have is quite enough and I'll manage just fine with the baby when you're at work," she said. "I wanna do everything I can for our son; that's why I'm not going back to work anytime soon. Sorry for the late notice, boss."

Trent smiled.

"He's so peaceful," she said, massaging Trent's hands that were now locked around her tiny waist.

"Uh huh. Don't you think it's time we started making plans for the wedding?" He was nibbling her ear.

"I was thinking about that — now that he's here. Let's go out front where we can talk," Tina replied, leading the way into the living room.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" She sat down next to him.

Trent was shocked by the question. "What do you mean? If I wasn't sure that I wanted to spend the rest of my natural life with you, Tina, I never would've asked you to marry me in the first place. I already told you — you're the only woman I've ever truly loved."

She lowered her head. "It's not that I don't want us to get married. I guess I just can't understand why in the world you would even want me."

"How can you say that?" Trent gently raised her chin, her face now exuding a sadness he had seen before.

"I'm damaged goods, Trent. I know I shouldn't still be thinking this way, but I just can't forget the past. I can't forget what he did to me."

"Your father?"

"Yes." She nodded.

"Remember what I said to you before, honey? You are not defined by the things that happened to you. Your father was a creep. What he did has nothing to do with who you really are on the inside."

"I know." She shook her head. "I thought I was over it for the most part, but sometimes the negative thoughts drift back to the surface and when that happens, I don't feel like I deserve anything good — especially your love."

Trent held her closely. "You are the most beautiful, wonderful, special, loving, gentle, kind, sweet..." Tina started to chuckle, "...human being I know. You deserve much more than I can ever give you, but I swear to you that I will give you my very best."

"I love you so much." She wrapped her arms around his neck.

"You know... maybe you should consider therapy to really get this thing behind you," Trent suggested.

"No. I don't need a shrink; I'm fine. Just knowing that I can talk to you about these things is good enough therapy for me," Tina returned.

"Are you sure? I may be a good listener, but a therapist can help you in a way that I probably can't. I just want you to be happy, Tina."

"I am happy, Trent. Now, that's enough of that talk," she insisted.

"So when are we gonna do this thing?"

Tina reached over to retrieve the small calendar from the side table. "Umm, let me see..." She sifted through the pages. "How about a December wedding?"

"December? Way up there?" Trent frowned.

"It's only five months away, honey."

"Our boy will be grown by then!"

"No, he won't!" Tina spanked his arm. "That will give us enough time to arrange something really nice."

"How many people are we inviting? Sounds like you're thinking about the whole town," Trent commented.

"You know, before I had the baby I wanted something grand and extravagant, but now I just kind of want something small — mainly family and friends," Tina said.

"It doesn't take almost half a year to plan something small, honey. Can't we do it in like two weeks or something?"

"Two weeks?!"

"Sure. Why not?" Trent was deathly serious.

Tina stared at him. Those eyes again... no wonder she had fallen head over heels in love with the guy. "I don't understand why you're in such a rush. Our baby is here, we're all together, we're in love..."

Trent took her hand. "That's exactly it, honey. With everything you said, we're just missing one thing..."

"And what's that?" Tina asked.

"Our public declaration of commitment to each other. It's not about a piece of paper, Tina. It's about me openly committing to the woman I plan to spend the rest of my life with — however long that's going to be. I've waited a long time to meet the perfect woman for me and I don't want to waste another moment if I don't have to."

Smiling, Tina looked down at the calendar again, slowly flipping the pages, then her finger slid across to a date. "Okay, how about the fifteenth of September? That's a Saturday. I'm thinking a morning wedding - maybe eight o'clock?"

Trent smacked her on the lips. "Perfect! In two months, you'll be Mrs. Tina Matheson... my wife."

"My friend Taylor, of course, will be my maid-of-honor and Amy, Dianne and June will be the bridesmaids," Tina added.

Trent loved the excitement in her eyes.

"Who will you get to be your best man?" She asked. "I know if Peter was here..."

Trent lowered his head for a moment. "Yeah."

Tina could see that the pain was still fresh. It had only been several months since Peter's lifeless body was discovered on the beach.

"Have you heard anything recently about the murder investigation?" She asked.

"Peter's or the others?" The subject had clearly dampened Trent's mood.

"Peter's."

He shook his head. "No. Since the interrogation, I haven't heard a thing."

"I wonder who would want to murder all those people. And what's so strange is that every single one of them worked for our company," Tina noted. "I feel like they were targeted."

"Most of the staff is still afraid because they don't know if that's the end of the killings and if not, who will be next. Remember... ten people resigned since Peter's death and you know what it was like scrambling to fill those positions so we wouldn't fall behind with all the deadlines."

"I know," Tina affirmed. "Needless to say, I was shaking in my boots too. Thankfully, since Peter's death, there's been nothing and I hope and pray it stays that way."

At that moment, Trent wished that he could unburden himself and tell Tina exactly what had happened to Peter and all the others. Yet, he knew that revealing the identity of the killer would be a futile undertaking: No one in his right mind would believe his assertion, particularly when there was no human being he could point them to.

* * *

Alone at a table in the back corner of the restaurant, Solange sifted through the envelopes she had just retrieved from her purse. "Still nothing," she muttered. "Nothing but utility bills." Victor had not written for months and he had not responded to the last two letters she had sent him. Solange was beginning to worry that something might have happened, but calling his residence was out of the question — it was just too risky. They had never communicated in that manner since she had left France more than a year earlier.

"Everything all right, Liza?" Dolly asked while passing.

"Yes. I'm fine," Solange replied, shoving the mail into her purse again.

She looked around the restaurant. Tables were beginning to fill as usual for that time of day. She glanced at her watch: Five minutes left on her break. She picked up her purse, took it back behind Sam's office door and returned out front to resume her duties.

"You're doing it again. Aren't you?" Sam said as he headed to his office.

"I'm sorry. I don't know what you mean, sir," Solange replied.

"Cutting your break short! You never take your full break — you always cut yourself short. Think I didn't notice, eh?" Sam jovially pointed to his chest. "I notice everything around here."

"I'm sure you do, Mister Fung." Solange smiled and went on her way.

"I think Sam has a thing for you," Sonia whispered after scribbling an order.

"Oh, stop talking foolishness!" Solange whispered back. "He treats me no differently than he does anyone else."

"Boloney! You couldn't even say that with a straight face."

"Well, I did!" Solange exclaimed before walking off. The only thing on her mind right then was Victor's deafening silence. She knew that someway, somehow, she had to get in touch with him.

Later that night....

The key inside the lock was a bit stiff coming out, but after the usual tugging and twisting, it finally freed itself. Solange entered the apartment, slid the band off her pony-tail and shook her long, black hair loose. Kicking off her shoes, she threw the ring of keys onto the center table. She had slept on the bus that night almost the whole way and couldn't wait to arrive home.

Exhausted, she walked into the bedroom and flopped onto the bed. Lying on her back and looking around at the room with its peach walls, she reflected on how far she had come. Having fled France after Ferdinand and then Greg — whom she was certain was a real psychopath — she had finally attained a sense of stability again and what a relief it was! Now...Victor. He was the only family she had left and her only connection to the part of the world she would likely never see again — the place she had once called home.

Shifting to the left, she looked at the phone nearby, then glanced at her wrist-watch. It was 10:20pm. The frightening reality was that she was entertaining a thought she knew was clearly forbidden, but she just had to know how he was doing. With all the risks considered, she cared too much about Victor to simply ignore his silence.

She sat up and placed the phone on the bed in front of her. She must have stared at it for a good ten minutes before actually mustering up the courage to pick up the handset. At that point, she found solace in the fact that she would soon be hearing his sweet, gentle voice for the first time in such a long time. Placing the receiver to her ear, she slowly dialed the number.

"Hello..." a female answered seconds later.

Solange instantly assumed that Victor had finally gotten himself a lady friend.

She cleared her throat. "Hi, um... is Victor there?"

"Victor?" The woman authoritatively pronounced the 'tor' as 'tore'.

From the sound of her voice, Solange gathered that she was elderly. "Yes. I'd like to speak with him please."

"Who is this?"

Solange suddenly got an uneasy feeling in the pit of her stomach, simultaneously thinking that her best move right then and there would be to hang up. "I'm a friend of his — just checking in to see how he's doing," she finally responded.

"Were you a good friend of his, Miss?" The lady asked.

"Yes. Why do you ask?" Solange was even more convinced now that she should disconnect the call, yet for some reason, she couldn't bring herself to do so.

"Because I'm his first cousin and in my humble opinion, a good friend of my cousin, Victor, would have known that he passed away in March of this year. You're four months late, dear. What type of friend were you? What is your name?"

Solange abruptly ended the call. She covered her face with both hands and burst into tears. "Oh, no! Not Victor!" She cried. "Not him!" She could see his face — the wrinkles that revealed a very hard life, yet a softness that branded him the epitome of kindness, gentleness, and selflessness. She knew he had taken her secret with him to the grave. Now she was all alone in the world.

Solange held her stomach as she wept. Inside her heart, the pain was almost as unbearable as it was when she had lost her own parents.

After what felt like hours of sobbing, she eventually lay back in bed and wetted her pillow with a seemingly never-ending ocean of tears.

4

The Invaders

Trent rested the silver, oval tray on the bed, then looked at Tina who was busy nursing the baby. He reached over and kissed her on the forehead, and did the same to his son.

"Enjoy your breakfast, my love," he said.

"Thanks, honey. I'll be done soon," Tina replied.

"I'll just fold these clothes over here in the basket."

"Aw... you're so sweet. I could've taken care of them after breakfast, you know."

"That's okay. I washed them, now it's time for me to fold them."

Tina smiled; he had warmed her heart.

"If I could've breast-fed in order to help you out sometimes, I would," Trent added.

"Trent! How gross! I know you wanna be helpful, but the thought of that is a bit over the top."

Trent chuckled as he folded the laundry.

After burping the baby, Tina positioned a small blanket in the center of the king-sized bed. "Well, that's it for now, you beautiful, spoogy-woo." She kissed the infant softly before resting it onto its tummy. "Time for Mommy to have her breakfast now."

The child was lying quietly on the blanket, slowly drifting off to sleep.

Tina reached forward for the tray and placed it over on the night-stand. "The coffee smells delightful!"

"It does?" Trent glanced back.

Tina slipped out of bed and approached him from behind. "Yes... and so do you." She wrapped her arms around his waist.

"I thought we were holding out 'til the wedding." Trent turned around and locked his lips passionately onto hers, not allowing an immediate response. Several moments in, they heard the baby groan.

"I'll check on him," Tina said, pressing her lips together and heading over to the baby. Noticing that he was almost asleep, she gently rubbed his back, then she noticed something.

Turning towards Trent, she motioned for his attention. Her efforts futile, she said in a loud whisper, "Honey!"

Trent looked back.

"Come here."

Reading her lips, he dropped the pair of white, cotton socks he had tied together and went over to her.

"Look at his hair," she said softly.

Trent moved in closer, leaning over the bed. "What?" He asked, straightening back up.

"It must have grown a full two inches since I set him down a minute ago."

"No way," Trent scowled. "I don't think that's possible. His hair must've always been that length."

"You know that's not true!" Tina's whisper got louder and coarser. She was visibly peeved by his apparent ignorance.

Looking back at the baby, Trent saw that he had fallen off to sleep. He took Tina by the hand and led her outside into the hallway. "Think about what you said in there Tina. Does it sound rational at all?"

"I agree it doesn't, but a child's hair growing two inches in less than 72 hours after its birth doesn't seem rational or even possible either."

Trent shrugged. "So what if it's true? What's the big deal about it? Aren't you glad your son's hair is healthy? Otherwise, it won't grow so fast."

She tilted her head back for a moment. "I guess you're right. It's probably no big deal. I just hope that by the end of the week, with all the healthy growth, his hair doesn't make it all the way down to his ankles!"

Trent laughed, then took her hands into his. "I have to go into the office for a few hours today. I have a meeting with the new clients I told you about."

Tina started to speak.

"I know you've just had our baby and I promise, I'm taking time off work to help around here, but I have to go in for a while to try and close this deal. Okay? "He had a pitiful look.

"Okay, I understand," Tina acceded. "I think at least a week or two at home with us after you take care of this is in order. I know you have a business to run, so I don't expect more than that."

"You're so understanding, my beauty." He kissed her on the cheek. "See why I love you so much?"

"I guess. Go get ready then."

* * *

"Oh my! What happened to you?" Sonia exclaimed after finding Solange alone in their so-called lounge. "You look like road-kill. Didn't sleep well last night?"

"I'm fine," Solange responded softly. "You just got in?"

"Yeah." Sonia removed her purse and set it in the top cabinet. "Got up a little later than usual this morning. Harry and me... last night, you know."

"That's good, Sonia."

"By the way, I heard Sam out there asking for you when I walked in."

"Why didn't you tell me sooner?" Solange got up immediately.

Sonia's look turned more to a stare. "You've been crying. Haven't you?"

Solange looked down, shook her head and started to leave. "I can't talk right now. I have to see what Mister Fung wants."

"Lunch time then... we'll chat?" Sonia proposed behind her.

Solange nodded and left.

"You were looking for me, sir?" Solange asked Sam in the kitchen. The chef and three other helpers were all in the elongated room that screamed for extra space.

"Yes." He looked down at his wrist-watch. "We're about to open now, but I have to step out for a few hours. I need you to take over for me until I get back." His demeanor was unusually serious.

"Me?" Solange was surprised.

"Yes... you," Sam pointed.

"Okay. Sure." She could tell that he was in a bit of a rush.

"Pat hasn't come in yet, so let two of the girls take over her tables until she gets in, okay?"

"Okay, sir... but who should I ask to do it?"

Sam removed his apron. "That's your job. I'm off the clock now. You figure it out."

"Yes, sir. No problem," Solange replied.

Sam headed to the front door and Solange followed.

"Where'd Sam go?" Sonia asked next to her.

"I don't know."

"What did he want with you? Bet he asked you out!"

Solange gaped at her friend as if she had completely lost her mind. "No, Sonia. He didn't ask me out. He just left me in charge until he gets back."

Sonia stepped back as if a strong wind had pushed her. "You see that! I told you he has the hots for you! Most of us have been here a lot longer than you, even Clyde and Joe in the back there..." she pointed with her chin towards the kitchen, "...and he didn't leave any of us in charge. Imagine that! Next thing he's gonna do is ask you out. Watch and see." She spoke excitedly.

"I really don't want to talk about such things. I'm not in the mood for any of that today," Solange returned. The burden she felt in her heart over Victor's passing proved overwhelming.

Sonia stopped smiling. "What's the matter? I don't think this could wait 'til lunch."

"I can't talk about this right now. Sam wants two of the girls to tend to Pat's tables until she gets in; she's running late. Can you help me do it?"

"Sure. No problem," Sonia replied. "I hope she gets in soon though 'cause it's gonna get real busy in a minute."

"I know."

* * *

With Trent gone and little Foster still fast asleep, the house was very quiet. Tina ventured back upstairs with the coffee she had warmed in the microwave. She was feeling so lucky to be a new mother and now soon-to-be wife of one of the wealthiest and most honorable men in the city.

Resting her mug on the night-stand, she strolled over to one of the large, double windows on the western side of the master bedroom. Her eyes immediately caught hold of the dense, dark woods that surrounded three sides of the house. It seemed to envelope its own uncanny mystery. Then she looked down and what came into view startled her. There were dozens of hooded figures of average height, dressed in black garments which hung all the way down to their ankles, standing around the house. Their heads were all slightly lowered. They couldn't have been no further than thirty feet away. Tina moved in closer to the window. Their faces... she couldn't see their faces. Only blackness filled the space where their faces should have been. Covering her mouth to prevent herself from screaming — thus startling the sleeping child — Tina rushed over to the northern window, looked down and found that there were more of them.

Instinctively, she dashed out of the room and into another bedroom still on the northern end of the house. Looking outside, she was terrified to see them there as well. Then onto a room on the eastern side of the house and the southern side — more were there. They had completely surrounded the entire building! It must be well over a hundred of them, she thought — all standing in the very same pose with their heads slightly lowered. Tina ran downstairs and over to the front door, her heart pounding so hard that she felt it was about to explode. Still covering her mouth with one hand to prevent her screams from escaping, she quickly placed the chain across the door, then hurried over to the back sliding doors to ensure they were all locked. While proceeding toward the sliding doors, she had moved edge-wise along the wall where she deemed she would not be seen by the strangers lined off on that side of the mansion. Then she darted over to the phone that was in the living room, picked up the handset and was immediately met with a harrowing feeling of déjà vu. It was just as it was when she was about to give birth to little Foster — the line was completely dead. Pressing the dial hurriedly and repeatedly did not revive it, so she ran upstairs into the master bedroom and crouching down a little, grabbed her purse that was sitting next to the bed. She pulled out her cell phone. Again... no dial tone. Panicked, she was stuck! Weird-looking figures had surrounded the house and there was no help in sight.

Glancing over at the child, whose sleep seemed serene, she got back up and headed over to the western window again. Peeping out, she noticed that the hooded figures had enclosed the yard by at least another fifteen feet. They were much closer to the house now. As she stood there horrified and unsure of what to do, she noticed that they were now all looking up — as if at her! She backed away from the window - out of view, then seconds later, looked back. They were still looking up towards the window. The black holes where their faces should have been were more prominent now and Tina felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand up. She was not as frightened for herself as she was for her defenseless baby. Then looking back at the bed, she noticed that little Foster, still fast asleep, was slowly levitating off the mattress in horizontal alignment as his previous sleeping position. Tina screamed — unable to hold back any longer. Slowly, the baby went up, not awakened by the cry; his mother now standing frozen in awe. All the way up to the ceiling he went, stopping only a few inches from the pine that coated it. The figures outside were still looking up; Tina still whimpering - unable to move. Then slowly, the baby descended until he gently touched the bed and was back in his former spot. He had slept straight through the mind-boggling episode and Tina felt that at any moment, she would collapse to the floor. Seconds later, she did.

"Honey, wake up!" Trent lightly slapped her face.

Catapulted out of a seemingly dreamless sleep, Tina pitched up, attempting to get up out of bed, but Trent prevented her.

"Where are they, huh? Where are they?" She asked, eyes darting wildly around the room.

"Who do you mean, Tina? Where are who?" He was perplexed.

"What have they done with the baby? Where is he? Answer me, dammit!"

"The baby is in the nursery. He's fine," Trent said. "I found you passed out on the floor over there. Do you remember what happened?"

"Let me up!" She demanded.

"Okay... easy. I just didn't want you to spring up too suddenly after waking up," he said, giving her space.

She hurried over to the window. "They're... gone now."

"Who in the world are you talking about, Tina?"

"The weird, hooded people," she answered as she left the room.

"What? What did you say?" Trent followed her.

"Thank God, he's all right," Tina said, standing over the baby's crib with a huge sense of relief. The baby was looking at her as she tenderly reached inside and caressed his face. She had felt helpless — even guilty while watching him levitate from the bed, her own feet stuck to the floor. She didn't know if it was crippling fear or some otherworldly force that had prevented her from jumping onto the bed and reaching up as high as she could to grab him.

She left the room and quickly went around checking the yard, peering outside of the windows like she did when she had first spotted the hooded strangers.

"Tina..." Trent followed her closely.

Tina was silent — completely focused on the mission at hand. She had to make sure they were really gone. After looking outside the front lawn and noticing nothing but greenery, shrubs and colorful flowers, she walked over to the couch and slumped onto it. "They're all gone now," she said softly.

Trent sat facing her. "Tina, do you mind telling me what this is all about?"

She looked at him, her eyes wild and glassy, then as if a sudden jolt of energy had rushed throughout her body, she sprung up from the chair, went over and sat next to him.

"I know you're gonna think I'm crazy..." she started, "...but this house was surrounded by strange, eerie-looking people with no faces — just black holes where their faces should've been. It must've been maybe a hundred or two hundred of them. They were all dressed in black from head to toe," she explained.

Trent was shocked by what he was hearing. That story topped everything else that Tina ever came up with. It couldn't be true since all that supernatural stuff had ended six months earlier when he defeated Tarrow.

"Tina, I should get you to a doctor to find out why you blacked out like that and I really think you ought to speak with a therapist," he replied, making no mention of the scene she described. "This whole thing may just be attributed to that post-partum thing some women deal with after giving birth."

"I knew it!" Tina shook her head. "I knew you'd think I was crazy. I don't need a medical doctor and I definitely don't need a therapist. What I saw out there on this property was the most frightening thing I have ever seen, Trent. I didn't know what to do! I tried calling the police, but the phone was dead — even my cell wouldn't work."

She got up and checked the land-line again. "Figures! It has a dial tone now."

"But the line couldn't have been dead, Tina." Trent asserted. "You called me, remember?"

Tina looked at him suspiciously. "I called you when?"

"Maybe twenty or twenty-five minutes after I left the house. I was just pulling up at the office when your call came through. This land-line registered on my cell."

"That can't be," Tina slumped onto the couch. "Both phones were dead — there was no way I got through."

"Honey, I spoke with you. That's why I'm back here already. You specifically told me that you needed me back at the house, but you wouldn't say why, so I drove back here as fast as I could. When I walked in, I heard the baby crying. After I called out to you and didn't get an answer, I rushed upstairs and that's when I found you," Trent replied.

"But that's just not possible, Trent!" Tina vehemently countered. "I never called you." She paused for a moment, then asked, "Did you see them when you got here?"

"Who?"

"Those people."

"No, honey. I didn't see anyone when I got here," Trent candidly expressed. "Look, I had to cancel the meeting today and thankfully, Mister Bradshaw was very understanding when I explained to him that I had an emergency. We've agreed to meet tomorrow morning instead. What I'm thinking of doing is getting someone in here to help you out with the baby while I'm gone."

"I don't need any help," Tina returned. "You need to call the police and tell them about these strange people."

"Tell them what, Tina? That you saw faceless, hooded people in the yard?" Trent's tone was clearly cynical.

"Well, I don't need any help. I'm taking care of my baby myself, but I'm telling you now... I'm getting a gun and if anyone shows up here like that again, I'll kill all of 'em."

Then as if in a sudden daze, she got up and Trent watched as she slowly mounted the stairs.

* * *

"Did everything go well while I was gone?" Sam asked.

"Yes, sir. Everything is fine," Solange replied.

He glanced at his watch. "Okay. I think it's time you took your lunch break. Thanks for filling in."

"You're welcome, sir."

Solange sat at the long table in the lounge. She slipped off her shoes and started nibbling on a chocolate bar she had previously stashed in her apron pocket.

"Hi Missy." Sonia walked in moments later. "Ready to have that talk now?" She asked, sitting across from her.

"You're persistent, aren't you?" Solange looked at her.

"Didn't I tell you?"

"What?"

"That persistence is my middle name?"

"Yeah. Sure, Sonia... and 'Fed up' is mine." Solange wasn't smiling.

"Okay, all fun and jokes aside. Why do you look like road-kill?"

Solange was amazed at how animated Sonia was. She put down the chocolate bar. "My uncle died a few months ago. I just found out last night."

Sonia reached across the desk and put her hand on top of Solange's. "Oh, I'm so sorry, dear. You did mention once how close you and your uncle were. I'm so, so sorry he's passed."

"Thank you," Solange replied softly and tears she had struggled all day to restrain, suddenly gushed out with a vengeance. "He was the only one I had left. I have no one now!" Her voice was breaking.

Sonia grabbed some napkins from a box nearby and handed them to her friend. "I can imagine how you feel, honey, but you do have family."

"I know." Solange gently squeezed Sonia's hand. "You are just like my own family; we're more like sisters than friends."

"You're right, but I wasn't talking about me, Liza. I was talking about you still having real family left — your own blood brother, remember?"

Solange was wondering what it would take to convince Sonia that she was tired of having that conversation.

"I know you don't wanna hear it, Liza, but you must!" Sonia continued. "I believe in providence - in that there's a reason for everything that happens in this life. Yes, it's sad and all that your uncle died, but maybe by his passing, it serves as room for you to see how important it is for you to finally connect with your brother. I know you're not after any money — you'd rather slave like a pig in this joint and drop dead before you ask your brother for even a penny or claim what I keep telling you is rightfully yours. But I know you need to feel a real sense of belonging. I'm your friend and we're just like family and we always will be, but your real family — I mean the one that has your DNA is just a few blocks down from here in First Provincial Bank. Please, dear — go and reveal yourself to your brother. Now is the time. You believe that?" Sonia's stare was gentle, yet intense.

Solange sat quietly for a few moments drying her face with the napkins. For the first time, she was beginning to feel that, perhaps, Sonia was right about this connecting with her brother thing.

"Okay," she finally said.

"Okay... what?"

"I'll do it. I'll meet with him again, but this time, I'm not making any appointment. I'm just going to walk right in that place and ask to see him. Hopefully, he won't refuse me since the last time I did nothing but waste his time."

"So when are you going?" Sonia asked eagerly.

"I don't know. Soon."

"Why not today? It's just as good as any."

"I've already agreed to go and see him again, Sonia. Don't push it!" Solange demanded.

"Okay, I won't." Sonia humbly conceded. She reached over and touched her hand. "Liza, you'll be fine. You'll grieve for your uncle for a while, but you'll be fine. I know he would want this for you."

"Thanks, Sonia." Solange was consoled by her words.

5

Disbelief

Taylor was a tall, curvaceous blonde with a face that most men would agree belonged on the cover of a big name magazine.

"Thanks for coming, Taylor," Trent said, inviting her inside.

"No problem at all. Where is she?" Taylor asked.

"Upstairs with the baby."

"I planned to come by anyway since the last I saw of them was at the hospital. Nice place you've got here, by the way."

"Thanks." Trent cleared his throat. "Well, I have to go now; I can't be late for the meeting." His coat was tossed across his briefcase as he headed out the door. "Remember to lock the top latch," he said.

"I will," Taylor said behind him before shutting the door.

"There you are." Taylor smiled, entering the nursery.

Tina had just rested the baby in his crib. "Hey, how are you?"

They both embraced.

"I'm sorry that Trent thought you had nothing better to do than baby-sit me," Tina smirked.

"He's just concerned; that's all. You should be glad you have a man like that who really cares about you," Taylor replied. "Aw... he's so beautiful, Tina." Taylor gently touched the baby's arm. "Is he quiet?"

"Yeah. Hardly ever cries — even at night. He's no trouble at all," Tina vouched.

"Aren't you doubly lucky? Perfect man and perfect child."

"No one's perfect, Taylor." Tina shoved her hands into the back pockets of her skinny jeans and walked over to the couch in the corner of the room.

She sat down first and Taylor joined her.

"This nursery is gorgeous. I like the color combinations — just perfect for a boy," Taylor said, scanning the room.

"Is perfect your new best word now?" Tina remarked.

"I did use that like three times in a row, didn't I?"

"Uh... ya."

"So what's this all about... this episode Trent mentioned you had yesterday?" Taylor asked.

"Episode? Is that what he called it?"

"Not quite. Tell me... how have you been since having the baby?"

"Are you my therapist now?" Tina glared. "Look Taylor, I don't know why you agreed to make such a long drive out here over Trent's unwarranted paranoia concerning me. I don't have post-partum depression, I'm certainly not crazy, and I definitely don't need anyone baby-sitting me!"

"Tina, lower your voice! You don't want to startle the baby." Taylor saw that she was getting agitated.

Tina glanced over at the child. He was quietly sucking his thumb.

"What I don't understand is why you're so angry," Taylor continued. "Trent told me that you blacked out yesterday while he was gone and you refused to go to the doctor. I'm here because he just wanted to make sure that you and baby Foster are fine while he's at the office. He mentioned that he offered to hire help, but you won't allow it. That's why he asked me to come over today since he knew you'd never throw me out of the house."

Tina cracked a smile. "You're right, Taylor. I wouldn't throw you out of the house. I'd toss you through a window!" She threw her arm across her friend's shoulder. "I'm sorry I snapped at you."

"You are?"

"Yes, I am."

Taylor smiled back. "Then it's water under the bridge, best friend."

Tina removed her arm again, then fiddled with her fingers on her lap. "So did Trent mention anything else to you about yesterday?"

Taylor frowned. "No... Is there something I should know?"

Tina got up and pulled her out of the room. They went into the master bedroom and sat on the bed. "I saw something really terrifying yesterday," she spoke almost in a whisper — the logic of which Taylor, at that moment, did not understand.

"You saw something? Like what?"

"Hooded people," Tina's eyes glared with intensity. "They had the whole house surrounded and then I saw little Foster levitate from the bed all the way up towards the ceiling. They were doing it."

Taylor scowled. "Tina, I don't understand what you're saying. What hooded people are you talking about and what's this about the baby levitating?"

Tina got up and peered out of the window down at the yard below and then out into the woods. "I don't know where they came from. They just stood around the house for the longest time, then after the baby came down from the ceiling, I guess that's when I blacked out. When I woke up, they were gone. How could I black out like that leaving my baby completely defenseless?" She sought the answer from her friend.

Looking at Tina, Taylor now seriously wondered about her state of mind.

"I know it all sounds crazy," Tina said, rushing back over to the bed and staring at Taylor eyeball to eyeball. "If someone had told me this story, I would've thought they were totally out of their mind, but I swear to you that I'm not crazy. Everything I said was the truth. Trent doesn't believe me."

"Tina..."

"Did you notice anything about Foster today that was different from when you first saw him at the hospital?" Tina interjected.

Taylor thought for a moment. "The only thing I noticed was how well he seemed to be growing."

"Is that it?"

"I... think so."

Tina started to pull her friend again. "Come. Let me show you something."

She led the way back into the nursery and over to the crib.

Instinctively, Taylor smiled down at little Foster who was looking up at them.

"Look at his hair," Tina said firmly.

Taylor got a closer look. "Wow! It's growing so well! It's almost touching the tip of his shoulders! I knew when I first saw him today that there was something different about him — other than the fact that he's growing well overall, but I wasn't sure," Taylor responded.

Tina looked at her. "Do you think it's normal for a newborn's hair to grow at such a rapid rate?"

Taylor wasn't sure how to respond. "I don't know." She shrugged. "When is he due for his visit to the pediatrician?"

"Not for another nine days," Tina replied.

"Look," Taylor gently gripped Tina by the shoulders, "wait until then and you'll get all the answers you need concerning the baby. If you can't wait 'til then, call the doctor and ask him if it's normal."

Tina slowly nodded.

"As for the other thing you mentioned... I don't know what to say. Did you call the police?" Taylor asked.

"I tried, but none of the phones would work. Surprisingly, they worked just fine after it was all over."

"Well, did you call then? They could've checked the woods or something even after these people you mentioned had left."

"No, I didn't," Tina admitted. "After I spoke to Trent about what happened and he just brushed the whole thing off like I was a nut-case or something, I didn't bother. If he didn't believe my seemingly far-fetched story, do you seriously think the police would have? They probably would've laughed in my face."

"All I can say to you is if you see anyone on this property again that seems like they might pose any kind of threat — hooded figures or not — call the police as soon as you can and don't worry about their snickering. They'd still have to do their jobs and check the surrounding area," Taylor noted.

"I was thinking of getting a gun."

"A gun? Oh, I wouldn't advise you to do that Tina. I, personally, am afraid of guns. You don't want it to turn into a situation where you get so edgy about everyone who enters the yard and then you mistakenly shoot the wrong person. It happened to other people," Taylor said.

"I guess you're right," Tina replied. "But what should I do for protection?"

"Get pepper spray or something."

"Really? Pepper spray? For a couple hundred hooded people?"

Taylor shrugged. "Well, if you think about it... one gun, unless it's a machine gun or something, can't take down a couple hundred people at once."

Tina sighed.

"Don't worry, Tina. Everything will be all right. I don't think you have anything to worry about. You and your family are totally safe and secure in this house. Okay?"

"Okay," Tina hesitated.

"Try not to focus on that stuff," Taylor added, unsure if she believed the story as Tina told it. She knew her friend well enough to know that she saw something out there or at least believed she saw everything she described. Nevertheless, she would always be there for her — kooky or not; hooded figures and levitation stories or not.

* * *

Trent picked up the phone. "Will, can I see you in my office for a minute?" He asked.

"Sure thing, sir," Will Salstrom replied.

In a matter of moments, the thirty-year-old, husky accounts executive of dark brown complexion — almost Indian looking — entered Trent's office. Trent quickly invited him to sit.

"So how do you think the meeting went today?" Trent asked eagerly.

"I think you clearly laid out the advantages they would realize by investing with us, sir," Will started. "I'm almost a hundred percent convinced they already had their minds made up before they said they were gonna think about it and get back. My theory is they just didn't wanna jump on it so quickly, letting us see that they were elated by the offer. You know how that goes."

"I certainly do, Will. I certainly do." Trent smiled widely, proud of Will's keen observations. He never regretted assigning Will to the senior accounts position that he had so readily and proficiently filled. Someone had to take over some of Peter's responsibilities after his sudden demise. "Look, I called you in here for more than just your take on the meeting," Trent went on.

"Sir?"

"I don't know if I mentioned it to you, but I had asked Tina to marry me some months back and we decided to wait until the baby came."

"No, sir. I don't recall you mentioning it to me," Will responded. "That's understandable though, considering all the things that's been going on here at the office — the recent tragedies and all. How's the little one doing, by the way?"

"He's doing real fine. Thanks for asking," Trent replied. "Well, I was wondering, if you don't mind, I mean... if it's no inconvenience to you... if you'd be my best man at the wedding." Trent finally said.

Will's face lit up like the sun. "Wow, sir! Me? You want me to be your best man?"

"Sure," Trent answered. "We've known each other for a while and always had a decent rapport."

"Yes. I will, sir! I'm truly honored that you asked," he grinned.

"Will, the truth is... I don't have a lot of friends, but very many acquaintances. Over the years, I've come to consider you a good friend. You've always been loyal to this company and to me, personally. When the others were ready to walk out of here after all the murders — and understandably so — you don't know how much it meant when you came to me and said you were here for the long haul; that this is more than just a job to you. You said it was your purpose. I can't tell you how much your commitment means to me. I really appreciate that, Will." Trent spoke passionately.

Will was silently overwhelmed. He didn't know that his boss had even noticed. "Sir, I'm always glad to help out in any way I can and I really appreciate you telling me that."

Trent cleared his throat and started to arrange a few files on his desk. "Well, the wedding is scheduled for September fifteenth. I hope that's not too short of a notice for you."

"No, sir. Not at all. That's fine," Will replied.

Trent went on to discuss more details with Will, including the fact that he was going to take ten days off and would need him to handle things until he returned. Trent was relieved that he had secured a best man for the wedding, yet, he couldn't help but wish that things had turned out differently for Peter — that he was alive and they were still best buds. He reminisced on their college years and how they had planned to be the best man at each other's wedding — among other things. However, fate had not permitted it. Peter was long gone.

6

Decisions, Decisions

The warm summer sun pushed through the slight rift in the curtains. Tina could hear the birds chirping outside and the fresh draft on the forest trees climbed up to her nose. She looked over at Trent who was still in dreamland and she smiled. Her prince charming had been at home for almost a week straight and was so good with the baby. He hardly let her lift a finger except for breast-feeding little Foster who had a ravishing appetite for a newborn.

Tina tossed the sheet aside and climbed out of bed. The baby monitor sitting on the night-stand was quiet. Little Foster had only gotten up once that night for his feeding and Tina was feeling well-rested and somewhat energetic that morning.

Upon entering the nursery, she was shocked at the sight of a large, black mass leaning into the crib. The baby was smiling and smacking its lips - seemingly interacting with the shapeless blob.

The shrieking scream that escaped Tina's lungs pierced Trent's dreamless sleep and he sprung out of bed and rushed to find her. When he got to the door of the nursery, he saw Tina standing near the crib, holding the baby closely and weeping uncontrollably.

"What's wrong?" He demanded.

She could barely form the words. "Something.... something was looming over the baby, Trent."

"What?"

"A huge, black mass was leaning into the crib over the baby," she returned, her eyes filled with tears. Someone or something's trying to harm our child, Trent!"

Trent quickly embraced her. "It's all right, honey," he said, looking into her eyes and wiping her tears. "The baby's fine now. I'll take him." He reached for the infant.

"No! He's not fine. They're trying to hurt him!" She held onto the baby tightly; Trent was concerned that maybe a little too tightly. The child started to cry.

"Tina, I'll take him now." Trent reached again and gently took little Foster after Tina slowly released her grip. "Lie down now and get some more rest. I'll tend to him."

Tina stared back at him — her eyes piercing with fear and angst. "Are you patronizing me, Trent? Are you patronizing me?!"

"I'm not, honey. I wouldn't do that," Trent replied cautiously.

"I tell you that someone is trying to harm our baby and you act as if I told you something pleasant! I'm getting out of here. I'm taking the baby and we're moving away from this eerie place. I never should've agreed to stay here and I never should've given up my apartment either!" She snarled.

"Tina, calm down. You're not thinking rationally," Trent said. "I'm taking you to a doctor — someone who can help you. You haven't been the same since you had the baby."

"I'm not going anywhere, Trent Matheson, except away from here! You can't stop me!"

"Tina, I can't allow you to take the baby. I don't want us to fight like this, but you need help and in your condition right now, I cannot and will not allow you to take our baby."

"Give him to me!" Tina shouted, reaching for the child. "If you don't hand him over right now, Trent Matheson, I'm calling the police!"

"Go right ahead, Tina. What will you tell them, huh? The same story you told me about the strange people and the black mass, and little Foster floating in the air?" Trent asked. "Well, go ahead then and tell them. I'm trying to get you to willingly see a psychiatrist, but when they hear your ramblings, they will arrest you and drive you directly over to a mental institution."

Tina continued glaring at him — her eyes glassy again like they were when she first claimed to have seen the hooded figures.

"Please honey," Trent gently touched her arm. "Please go get ready. I will make a couple of calls and we're going to get you some help."

Tina grudgingly conceded, feeling that everything he said about the police not believing her was most likely accurate. Furthermore, she was now beginning to wonder if she was, in fact, losing her sanity — if all those things she saw were just figments of her imagination. Trent watched her head into the bathroom, then he went to their bedroom, rested the baby in the bassinet and pulled out the phone book.

* * *

"It was really nice of Doctor Palenski to see us on such short notice," Trent said while driving down the freeway. Tina was looking out of the window. Her body language indicated that she wished there was much more space between them.

Trent glanced through the rear-view mirror at little Foster who was quietly seated in the car seat, then back at Tina — keeping the core of his focus on the road. "I'm doing this, honey, because I love you. I just want you to be all right." He touched her knee.

Flinching, she said nothing.

Trent sighed deeply. "I know that right now you hate me for this. What happened back there at the house between you and me... never happened before. I've never seen you act like that, Tina. It's like you were turning into someone I didn't recognize. Doctor Palenski came highly recommended by the hospital administrator. I was told that he's very good in his field. We'll see him and everything will get back to normal soon, honey. I promise."

He couldn't see the tears that had trailed down her cheeks. Turning her head more to the right, she quickly dried them.

* * *

"Mister Fung..." Solange stood in the doorway of Sam's office.

"Come on in, Liza! What can I do for you?" Sam asked, cheerfully.

Solange moved in further in front of the desk. "Sir, I'm very sorry to have to ask you this, but I was wondering if I can leave a couple of hours early tonight," she said.

"Early?"

"Yes, sir."

"Tonight?" He sought clarification.

"Yes, sir. Will that be a problem?' Solange posed.

"No! Not at all. What do you call a couple of hours though? Two?"

"Yes, sir. Just two," she answered.

"What? You don't feel well? You tired?" Sam probed.

"Admittedly, just a little, sir," Solange replied solemnly. "No, sir. That's not quite it. I recently found out that my uncle, whom I was very close to, passed away and I just need a little time to clear my head. That's all."

"Oh, I'm so sorry," Sam got up, went around the desk and gave her a hug.

"Thank you, sir," Solange's eyes started to well with tears, yet she successfully restrained them.

"Don't wait 'til tonight, Liza. Go home now! Go home now and grieve for your loss. I completely understand the pain of losing a loved one. If you need tomorrow off too, I'll give it to you."

"I can't..." Liza started.

"Don't worry about the pay," Sam patted her shoulder. "I will not cut you. You still get pay for double shift."

Solange was shocked by Sam's generosity. Maybe Sonia was right — or maybe Sam was just sorry for her. Either way, she was grateful.

"Thank you, sir. I'll just get my purse." She reached behind the office door for it. "I might come in tomorrow, sir. Have a good evening."

"Good evening to you!" Sam waved behind her.

"I'm going home now," Solange said quietly to Sonia who was waiting at the kitchen window for an order.

"Now?" Sonia asked.

"Yes, and he offered me tomorrow off as well."

"That's good, dear. You go home, curl up in bed and just let it out. After a while, get up, wash your face, make yourself a hot cup of tea and thank God for the times you had with your uncle. You'll start to feel better as time goes on. If you focus more on being grateful for the time you've spent together, you'll find the grieving process a little easier," Sonia explained. "I know — I lost my Mom two years ago. She was my everything. At first, it was so hard accepting the fact that she was really gone, but then as I reminisced on the times we spent together and the love we had for each other, I was so grateful for it all and knew that our love would never die. I'm counting on seeing her again someday — that is, if I don't let that fart of a man I'm married to cause me to veer off path by strangling him in his sleep."

"Sonia!" Solange grimaced.

"I'm just joking, girl. If I haven't done it by now, chances are it'll never happen," she grinned.

"I'll see you tomorrow, Sonia." Solange turned to leave.

"I thought you said he gave you tomorrow off too..."

"He offered it to me, but I didn't say I would take it," Solange clarified. "We'll see."

"Okay. Praying for ya."

Solange left the restaurant and sauntered down the block. She sat in the shaded booth at the bus-stop and watched as people of all nationalities, ages, shapes and sizes passed by. She let out a deep sigh as she unwillingly pondered the events of her life. Why did it have to be so hard for me? She thought. Why did my parents have to die while I was so young? Why did they have to be murdered — snatched away from me in such a cruel manner? Why did I have to struggle so much since then to make ends meet? Why Ferdinand? Why did Oncle Victor have to die and leave me so alone on this earth? Why? She felt the tears streaming down her face and quickly wiped them away as she didn't want anyone to notice. Her thoughts then drifted towards her brother: I don't know him; we're complete strangers. There'd be no connection. Regardless, I'm still alone. I may as well be an alien to him and he to me.

The bus's large tires screeched to a halt in front of her. Standing up, Solange waited for several passengers to exit the bus before she mounted.

At home, she readily took Sonia's advice. All she wanted to do was clear her mind of all the heart-rending ruminations and just fall asleep. Deep inside, she wished that she would never wake up again.

7

Mercy Me

"Thanks for meeting with us on such short notice, Doc." Trent extended a hand.

Dr. Palenski did likewise and then pleasantly greeted Tina who went directly to a seat in front of the massive mahogany desk. He had seen that a handshake was not in order for her.

Tina sat quietly; her face void of expression and she looked pale.

"Barb took care of the little one for you?" Palenski sat down after inviting Trent to do so.

"Yes, she did," Trent replied.

"No worries. Your baby will be just fine in our nursery. Only certified nurses work in there caring for the children," Palenski said.

"That's good to know," Trent answered.

Looking over at Tina and then back at Trent, Palenski asked, "Now, how can I help you good folks today?"

Tina was looking off to the right, paying no attention to the doctor whatsoever — or at least it appeared that way.

"Doc, my wife... well, my fiancé here has been having some slight issues since giving birth to our son about a week and a half ago." He looked at Tina. "Honey, do you mind telling the doctor what's been going on?"

Tina didn't bother to respond.

"Miss Sheffield..." Dr. Palenski interjected. "I'd really like to know what's been bothering you. I promise I would do my very best to help you."

Not a word. Tina continued staring off into space.

"Tina's expressed to me that she's been... seeing things." Trent grabbed Palenski's attention again.

"What kinds of things?" The doctor asked, glancing at Tina for a response.

"Tina..." Trent tried again.

Palenski cleared his throat and stood up behind the desk. "Mister Matheson, do you mind if I have a few moments alone with Tina?"

"Not at all," Trent replied, getting up. He motioned toward the door. "I'll just wait out front."

"I'll call for you in a few minutes. Thank you," Palenski said.

Trent walked out and shut the door behind him.

Palenski walked to the front of the desk, stopping directly in front of Tina who had successfully held the same position since she walked in there.

"Tina..." he bent down a bit hoping to establish eye contact, "...can you please look at me for a minute?"

A few moments went by before she glanced at him, then away again.

"I would really like to know what's been happening to you lately," Palenski continued. "I promise that whatever you tell me I will listen to with an open mind. If there's something you want to say that you'd prefer not to share with anyone else, including your fiancé out there, I will respect that. I initially agreed to the joint session because you both consented, but if you change your mind at any time and would like to speak with me privately going forward, we can do that. Okay?"

Tina slowly nodded setting her eyes on the doctor again.

A smile of relief formed on Palenski's face. He was finally getting through to her.

"Now, please tell me what's been happening to you, Tina."

Tina leaned forward in her chair and started in almost a whisper. "They're trying to hurt my baby," she uttered fearfully.

"Who Tina? Who's trying to hurt your baby?" Palenski asked.

"The strange people who showed up at my house," she went on. "The hooded people with no faces and lately, the black blob thing that was leaning into my son's crib."

Palenski started to straighten up a bit. "I see. Did they say anything?" He probed.

Still whispering, Tina replied. "No." She motioned for the doctor to lean forward again. "See, my soon-to-be husband doesn't believe me. I think these strange people like his house; there's something about that spooky place. Almost a year ago, I saw something in the bathroom mirror — just hideous it was! He didn't believe me then and he doesn't believe me now. Things just got worse since the baby came. That's why you have to help me get the baby out of there. I can take him someplace where he'll be safe."

"Where do you want to take him?" Palenski's eyes were fixated on hers.

"Anywhere — a hotel, an apartment — just away from that creepy house. You've got to tell him to let me take the baby and leave. He doesn't want me to take the baby," she stated.

"You mean... your fiancé?"

"Yeah."

"Tina, is this your first child?" Palenski asked.

"Uh, huh. Why do you ask?"

He walked around to his desk again, sat down and perused the file in front of him. He noticed that there was no indication of mental problems in her family line. "How have you been feeling — both physically and emotionally since giving birth?" He asked.

"Naturally, I was a little tired at first, but after a while I felt fine. Emotionally, I've been feeling like crap, especially since the man who's supposed to be my best friend in this world treats me as if I'm a lunatic."

"How's that?"

"He doesn't believe anything I say to him. He thinks I'm losing my mind or is depressed," she explained.

"Are you depressed?"

"I said that emotionally I feel like crap, so I guess that's pretty much the same thing, Doctor."

"Have you been sleeping well lately?" Palenski probed.

"I sleep fine," Tina replied with a scowl that disclosed her bewilderment regarding the basis of the question.

"That's good, Tina. Before I call your fiancé back in here is there anything else you'd like to share with me?" Palenski asked.

Tina leaned further in and loudly whispered, "Just tell him to let me take the baby somewhere safe. He should come too, but I know he'll never leave that house."

Palenski pressed the light orange button on the dial pad. "Carol, have Mister Matheson come back in please." He rested his elbows on the desk and interlaced his fingers. His demeanor was much different than it was when the couple first walked in.

Trent entered the room and took a seat.

"Mister Matheson, I have had a rather interesting conversation with Tina and I'd like to suggest something to both of you. From the brief talk we've had, I feel it would be beneficial now and in the long-term to run a number of tests on Tina so that I can garner a conclusive diagnosis of her current condition. We have a state-of-the-art facility here and I would really like to get her medically evaluated as soon as possible," he explained.

"Okay. What do we have to do then?" Trent asked.

"Well..." his fingers were still clenched and interlaced, "...I'd like Tina to remain here overnight to get those tests done."

"No way!" Tina protested. "I'm not staying here. I have a baby to take care of!"

Trent glanced at her and then retuned his focus toward the doctor. "Is there any way we can just come in and get these tests done instead of Tina having to stay overnight?"

Looking at Trent, Palenski cleared his throat. "Can I see you outside for a minute please?"

Trent immediately stood up and they both walked out together. Tina remained seated, quietly fuming at the nerve of that quack to even consider admitting her after everything she explained to him. Doesn't he care at all about little Foster's safety? She wondered. This was all just a complete waste of time. Obviously, no one realizes the severity of the matter.

"We need to admit her, Mister Matheson. Your fiancé is clearly in need of professional help and is in no way in a position to care for a newborn. We have to get her thoroughly evaluated to rule out anything other than what I believe might be causing these hallucinogenic experiences she's been having," Palenski said in the hallway.

"What about just giving her something for post-partum depression?" Trent asked.

"In my professional opinion at this juncture, without the aid of the aforementioned tests, I can pretty much safely conclude that Tina's problem has nothing to do with Post-partum depression. The symptoms are pointing elsewhere, but I'm not at liberty to state where at this point. I prefer to have my facts in front of me first; I'm sure you understand."

Trent considered the doctor's suggestion, unsure of how any of them would get Tina to agree.

"I have to say this, sir, but if Tina doesn't agree to remain overnight — at least until we've conducted all the necessary tests and can thereafter propose treatment — by law, I can have her committed on the spot without her consent. I just want to make that clear," Palenski added.

Trent sighed heavily. He was suddenly feeling like a traitor to the woman he loved with everything inside of him. He had pretty much forced Tina to come for the visit and now he had inadvertently placed her in a rather precarious position.

"She'd never forgive me for this," Trent indicated, subconsciously hoping the doctor would say or do something that would appease the whole matter. "But she breastfeeds the baby. How can she possibly stay here right now? Isn't there something you can prescribe for her, Doc? I know you might be going out on a limb here, but Tina really needs to be at home with our son and under no circumstances will he be staying here even if you permitted it."

Palenski scratched his forehead, then shook his head as if in deep contemplation. "I'm very concerned for your child, Mister Matheson. I think with your fiancé having to care for him particularly when alone could possibly place the child in a dangerous situation." He gave the matter more thought. "What I can do for now is prescribe something for her that will relax her a bit which would also be innocuous to her breast milk. The only way I'll agree to out-patient evaluation and treatment at this point is if you agree to immediately put some measures in place that would be beneficial primarily to your baby's safety and also to Tina."

"Anything. Just tell me what to do," Trent replied eagerly.

"You need to have someone with her at all times while she's caring for the baby. The child is not to be left solely in her care."

"Okay. That's no problem," Trent answered.

"Make the home environment as stress-free as possible for Tina. She shouldn't feel burdened with chores or anything as such and you must ensure that she takes the medication I will prescribe — on time, every day."

"Done!"

"You can schedule an appointment with my secretary for Tina to come in and have the medical evaluation done. I want this done as soon as possible, Mister Matheson." The look on Palenski's face couldn't be more serious.

Trent nodded.

"I am relying on you to do every single thing I've laid out to you. This is in the best interest of your child and Tina. As soon as the tests are conducted and all results are in, I will advise you of my findings. In the meantime, we'll monitor Tina's progress and see if the prescribed medication is helping her to cope any better with reality."

"Thank you, Doc. I really appreciate this," Trent said. "I assure you that all points are duly noted."

Trent re-entered the office first; Palenski followed. The look in Tina's eyes revealed worry. As Trent sat next to her, he placed a hand on her knee and offered a slight smile of approval. Tina sensed that the news would be good. After Palenski explained everything to her pertaining to his recommendations, Tina fully consented to the arrangement, particularly after being told that he could have out-rightly committed her. She still thought that he was really the one that needed to be committed.

"You okay?" Trent asked during the drive home.

Tina had again assumed her previous position of staring outside of the car window; the passing wind washing her face.

"I hope you now see that all of this was a complete and utter waste of time." She failed to look at him. "You almost got me committed back there!"

"I didn't think for a moment that he would suggest that."

"Really? You didn't think so? What about the remark you made earlier about the police arresting and institutionalizing me if they heard my crazy babbling? If you knew that they could have me committed, how could you not think a psychiatrist wouldn't suggest the same thing?! Your logic behind this makes absolutely no sense to me, Trent. You think I'm nuts because of what I honestly told you I saw, but you didn't even think that a shrink would have tried to commit me for a psycho evaluation after hearing my highly ludicrous story! Sure, you didn't!" She barked.

"I'm really sorry about that, honey. You ought to know that I fought like hell outside that door to convince the doctor to change his mind."

"So I should be thanking you then?" The sarcasm in Tina's voice was indubitably clear.

"You'll be fine, honey... and these things you've been seeing will stop once you start taking your medication. We're almost at the pharmacy and you can take the first pill just as the doctor advised."

Deep down inside, she hoped he was right.

8

The Reveal

"I told you all of this is totally unnecessary; I don't need any help," Tina stood in the bedroom holding the baby.

"I hear you, honey, but that's the doctor's orders. He doesn't want you to feel overwhelmed." Trent said, dressing for work.

Tina gave him a reprimanding look. "You know that's not it. He doesn't want me to be left alone with little Foster because he thinks I'm a raving lunatic that's out to harm him."

"That's ludicrous!" Trent replied, grabbing his coat from the hanger.

"You know I'm right, Trent. I wish Taylor was here instead of some stranger."

"Taylor has a job to go to, Tina. She took off work to be with you that day, remember?"

Tina's thoughts drifted elsewhere.

"I don't agree with what the pediatrician said the other day about the baby's development," Tina said, looking at little Foster who had grown considerably larger since his birth.

"Why not? He says that he's growing very well and will be a big guy when he grows up. Why's that hard to believe?"

Tina shook her head. "I don't know... it doesn't seem normal to me."

"I must admit, Doc was clearly surprised when he saw him too — couldn't believe he was the same one he had seen at the hospital that day," Trent grinned.

The baby was smiling as if being entertained by his parents' debate. Trent went over and started playing with him. "Daddy will see you a little later. You be good to Mommy, okay?"

He picked up his briefcase and kissed Tina on the lips. "I'll see you later too. Amina's downstairs, so please call her when you need her — I'm not paying her on slack, you know."

"Okay," Tina returned a reluctant smile. As much as he had gotten on her nerves over the past couple of weeks, she couldn't help but soften her temperament whenever those dark, brown eyes stared back at her.

Trent turned and looked her way again. "You've been so good taking your meds, honey. I feel like I finally have my Tina back. I just want to say that I love you and I'm so proud of you." He then headed downstairs.

Amina Marovic was in the kitchen drying dishes and stacking them away. She was a fifty-five-year-old Yugoslavian widow, slightly obese with short, graying, blonde hair.

Trent stopped in the doorway. "Amina, I'm leaving now. I need you to remember what we discussed earlier," he said. "If there's anything out of the ordinary — anything at all — call me right away."

"Yes, sir. I remember everything you said... and you mustn't worry. I have everything under control," she replied. "Now you go to work and have a good day. Everything will be fine."

Trent headed out the door. He waved to Ronnie, the gardener, on his way to the car.

* * *

"Young lady, may I have another cup of coffee?" An elderly gentleman hollered across the room.

Solange, who was standing near the kitchen, immediately waved to the customer. She went and got a fresh pot of coffee and headed over to him.

"Your coffee, sir."

"Thank you very much," the tall, lanky man answered, his eyes burning into Solange's slightly exposed cleavage.

"You're welcome, sir. Enjoy!" Solange replied, noticing the direction of his stare. The thought of a man his age, supposedly well into his seventies, drooling over a woman who was young enough to be his daughter, repulsed her. Nevertheless, her exceptional professionalism concealed her true feelings.

"I certainly will," the man said, eyes now glued to Solange's derriere as she walked off.

Sonia caught up to her. "Gave anymore thought to what we discussed?" She asked.

"Solange glanced at her. "Yes, I have. I'm going very soon."

"Great!" Sonia said, entering the kitchen first.

* * *

Clara Eaves was sitting at the reception booth when Trent walked in. "Mister Matheson, you're back!" She was thrilled to see him.

"Hello, Clara. How are you?" He asked.

"Just wonderful, sir. How's Tina and the baby?"

"They're both doing well," Trent affirmed. "Thanks for asking."

"Children are such bundles of joy, sir, but tending to a newborn is not easy." She waved her finger. "I know... I raised five of 'em."

"Don't worry, Clara. Tina has all the help she needs." Trent patted her on the arm.

"Give her my love!" She waved as he headed to the elevator.

"I certainly will." Trent waved back. He was relieved to be back at work particularly since the last couple of weeks had not been easy for him. Now he could exhale — he was finally back in the game. Hails were coming from all directions as he walked to the office.

"Great to have you back, boss!" cried Tom Lancy, a nineteen-year-old computer department trainee.

Tom was new on the job. He had only been at First Provincial for four months, but his magnetic personality had caused everyone to warm up to him quickly. The young man was daring, confident, zealous — just the type of employee Trent wasted no time pushing up the corporate ladder. Tom reminded him a lot of Will Salstrom. He figured that if the teenager was even half the man Will was, his future at the company was very bright.

The hours were passing quickly that day. Trent didn't bargain for a stressful first day back and did everything he could to avoid it. Around mid-morning, he had called and checked on Tina and the baby. They were fine and knowing that — so was he. At lunch-time, he snatched his cell from the desk, pushed it into his pocket, and walked out of the office.

"I'm going over to Fung's," he said to the temp who was sitting in for Tina.

"Yes, sir," the young lady answered as Trent proceeded to the elevator.

The atmosphere outside seemed stale and stagnant. Dozens of people were parading the sidewalk, traveling on in their own little world. As Trent passed some of them, he wondered what their life was like: Was it simple, complicated, depressing, happy? Was it normal, peculiar — similar to how his had been basically the whole time he had known himself. Other than Tina's recent issues, the last six months had been the most normal his life had ever been: No dreams, no apparitions, no Tarrow threatening to destroy him. He liked normal and wanted more than anything for life to stay that way.

With the seemingly meaningless thoughts subsiding, Trent walked into the restaurant. He chose a cozy spot at the far left side of the room. Further over to the right, he spotted her clearing a table — the lady with the knock-out features who had practically scurried away from his office months earlier. She didn't see him sitting there, but his eyes never strayed far away from her.

Sonia couldn't get to Solange fast enough. "Guess who's here!" She exclaimed.

"Who?" Solange asked, scanning the room — her eyes locking to his moments later. She quickly looked away.

"Go over there and speak with him!" Sonia pressed.

"Here? Now?" Solange was suddenly feeling overwhelmed.

"Absolutely! Now's as good a time as any. You always avoid him whenever he comes in here. Now be a big girl and make conversation with the man, then you can really get into talking even if it's outside."

"I'm not doing this here, Sonia," Solange contended. "What you're saying makes no sense; the place is crowded. When I'm ready, I'll go and see him at his office like I said I would."

At that moment, she looked up again and to her dread, he was gesturing for her to come over.

Sonia nudged her. "Well, go on! You can't ignore a customer when he's clearly trying to get your attention. Leave this stuff here. I'll take them to the back."

Solange dropped the towel and as she started over to him, she felt her knees weakening with every step. It reminded her of how nervous she was when she went to see him at his office months earlier.

"Hi," she said sheepishly, hands crossed in front of her like a little girl.

"Hi. Remember me?" Trent asked, looking up at her. He knew it was a stupid question, but thought it was a good start.

"Yes, I do."

"Look, I've been meaning to ask you..."

Solange nodded her head, confirming her knowledge of where he was coming from.

"I just didn't want to make you uncomfortable and decided to just leave it up to you if you ever wanted to finish what you started a while back," he continued.

"So why didn't you?"

"Why didn't I what?" Her question took him by surprise.

"Leave it up to me..." The nervousness had started to wear off somewhat - just as it did at one point during their first meeting.

Trent shrugged. "I'm not sure. I don't know why I chose today of all days to bring it up."

Solange glanced at the kitchen and then behind her. Sam was nowhere in sight. She quickly pulled out a chair and sat across from him. With one hand stretched across the table, she leaned in and quietly said, "I think I've finally realized, perhaps at this very moment, that there is no 'right' way to say this, but I think it's time that I let you know..."

She had his full attention. His gaze was piercing.

"...that I am your sister. Your mother, Grace Matheson, is also my mother," Solange finally divulged.

Trent's stare lingered. He could not believe his ears.

"I've done all of my research, so there is no doubt about what I am telling you," Solange went on. "If you don't believe me, you can go to the State adoption agency and check for yourself." Solange suddenly felt a huge weight lift off her shoulders, but the look on Trent's face was one of perplexity and uncertainty.

"Who are you? What's your name again?" He finally found his voice.

"My name is Solange Deneuve."

"Deneuve?"

"It's French. I was raised in France by wonderful adoptive parents. I just recently found out though that I had a brother." As she said the last word, there was a subtle adoration in her tone.

"I don't know what to say..." Trent was obviously in shock.

Glancing behind again, Solange saw Sam walking onto the main floor. She reverted her attention back to Trent. "Don't take my word for it. Go to the adoption agency and speak to a Miss Clementine. She'll be able to confirm what I've said about the adoption. Just know that I don't want anything from you. I just wanted to let you know who I am and if you don't mind, I would really like to get to know you." She then got up from the table and left.

Trent sat there in a daze.

"Mister Matheson, are you ready to order?" Dolly asked him moments later.

"Ah... yes. I'll have the usual to go, Dolly," he replied, wanting to get out of there and collect his thoughts. Food was now the last thing on his mind.

9

Unveil

Trent stood outside on the front porch watching Amina leave. Her rickety, '94 Corolla trotted down the driveway. Tina was standing at the window when Trent walked back inside.

"How long has he been asleep?" He asked, reaching for her waist.

"About a half hour now," Tina answered.

"How did Amina work out today?"

Tina sat down on the sofa. "I'll be honest with you. She seems like a lovely lady, but she's a royal pain in the butt too! Every minute... 'Miss Tina, can I get you this? 'Can I help you with anything?' Ooh... it's so frustrating!" She sighed.

"Then she worked out beautifully," Trent replied, sitting across from her.

"I called the caterer and spoke with Father Thomas at the parish today. I finally feel like we're making some headway," Tina indicated.

"That's good," Trent replied rather weakly. "That's really good."

"So how was work today?" Tina asked, sensing that something wasn't quite right with him.

"Work was fine."

"Settling in?"

"Yeah." Trent looked at her, his face clearly revealed the ponderosity of his thoughts. "Tina..."

"Yes, honey?"

He slumped back in the chair. "Today, I found out that I have a sister."

"What?" Tina was surprised. "A sister?"

"She's a waitress at Fung's restaurant." He leaned forward. "Do you remember several months back a tall, thin lady with long, black hair made an appointment to see me about doing some business with the bank?"

Tina thought for a moment. "I think so. Yeah. You mean the woman who hurried out shortly afterwards?"

"Yes... her." Trent affirmed.

"Really? She's your sister?"

Trent nodded.

"How do you know for sure?"

"I went to Fung's today for lunch and she just came right out and told me. Apparently, that's what she was really at the office to tell me before, but I guess she got frightened or something."

"But how do you really know if what she said is true?" Tina probed.

"After she broke the news to me, I went to the adoption agency like she suggested and everything checked out — just like she said. I even saw the birth certificate." He sighed heavily. "I never knew that my mother had been raped."

"Raped? You mean your sister was a product of rape?"

Trent nodded again. "That's why my mother gave her up for adoption. I guess she couldn't handle it."

"Honey, you do know that as terrible as that act of violence was against your mother it's not your sister's fault that she's here, right?"

"Oh, no. I don't have any ill or negative feelings towards her at all," Trent returned. "She's totally innocent in this. The thing is... I don't know what to feel towards her. I don't know what to say. I'm just kind of like in a daze here."

There was an intermission of silence.

"It's strange though because the whole while growing up, I wished I had a brother or sister, but knew it was impossible since my mother was dead and — for all I knew — so was my father."

Tina got up and sat next to him. "Invite her here to the house. Get to know her. After all, she's your flesh and blood — a dream come true."

Trent was quiet and deep in thought. Life, all of a sudden, had turned a new page by ushering his son into the world and now, on the heels of that amazing gift — his sister. He was beginning to feel overwhelmed as a series of emotions flooded in. Tina noticed the tears building in his eyes and somehow knew they were tears of joy. She reached up and kissed him above the eyelids and wiped a tear with her finger that had streamed down his cheek.

"I love you, Trent Matheson... and I'm so happy for you," she said with tears in her eyes as well. "You are the one that deserves the best of everything. You are a truly wonderful man and I'm sure that anyone who shares your DNA is so very special too."

"Thank you," he said softly before his lips met hers.

* * *

One week later...

Solange sat in her living room, fingers clenched together on her lap. She wished she had a shot of whisky — anything to relax her nerves. She had slipped into a pink, sleeveless summer dress and closed-in light brown slippers with three-inch heels. Her hair was neatly pulled back with her long ponytail dangling on her back. Dolly had agreed to work the evening shift for her that day and she was so grateful.

Solange heard the doorbell ring and almost fell from the chair. The anticipation had been building for days and she now felt slightly dazed as if in a dream-like state. She positioned her hand on the knob and slowly opened the door. Just as expected, he was standing on the other side.

"Hi," Trent Matheson said to her — her small frame weakly blocking his view of the interior.

"Hi," Solange replied. "I'm all ready."

The drive to his house was rather awkward for both of them.

"Thanks for agreeing to do the DNA test the other day, but I just had to be sure..." Trent said.

"I totally understand. I was happy to do it," Solange responded. "I hope the results were not disappointing."

"Disappointing? No way! I couldn't be happier," Trent returned. "Tina is so anxious to officially meet you."

"How long have you two been engaged?" Solange asked.

"For several months now. We decided to wait until after the baby was born to tie the knot."

"I see," Solange responded. "Your first?"

Trent glanced at her. "Baby... you mean?"

"Yes."

"Uh huh. It's my first child. His name's Foster. We named him after my grandfather." He cleared his throat. "Our grandfather."

Solange smiled.

"We have a lot to talk about," Trent said.

Solange concurred, but apprehension was simultaneously building as she knew what she would verbally contribute would be very limited. Although he was her brother, she knew her life could not be an open book.

Tina and Amina were outside with the baby when Trent's car pulled up on the driveway. Tina was clearly excited and could hardly wait for them to step out of the vehicle. Trent walked around the car to his sister and accompanied her up the walkway toward the front door where the others were waiting.

"Are you okay?" He asked Solange, sensing her nervousness.

"Yes. Yes, I'm fine," she answered, almost choking.

Tina started to meet them while Amina sat on the porch with the baby.

"It's so great to meet you!" Tina hugged Solange.

"It's nice meeting you too," Solange replied.

"Come meet your nephew!" Tina eagerly led her over to the baby.

"Hello," Solange hailed Amina who graciously hailed back. "My goodness! He is truly the most beautiful baby I have ever seen!" Solange commented, gazing at the child. "His hair is so thick and full." She was almost tempted to touch it. "How many months is he?"

Tina glanced at Trent. "He's actually almost three weeks old — seventeen days to be exact," Tina told her.

"Wow! Just seventeen days? That's incredible!" Solange kept staring at him.

"He's growing rather quickly. Even I'm amazed," Tina commented.

"Let's all go inside," Trent said at the door. He waited for each of the ladies to enter first.

Amina handed little Foster over to Tina, then went and got her purse. "I'll be leaving now," she told them. "It was indeed a pleasure meeting you, Miss," she said to Solange.

"Thank you," Solange smiled.

After Amina left, Trent said, "That's Amina, our new housekeeper and assistant to the lovely Tina. Please pardon our manners."

"Solange... what a beautiful name," Tina remarked.

"Thank you. My friends call me Liza."

"Really?" Trent interjected. "What should we call you?"

"Whatever you wish," Solange shrugged. Up to that point, she had only disclosed her real name whenever her passport was required for identification purposes. However, this was different — this was her brother and his family. How could they not know her real name?

"Can I get you something to drink?" Trent offered. "I have white and red wine, beer..."

"I wouldn't mind a little red wine," Solange replied. "It's good for the heart."

"Indeed it is." Trent stood up right away. "Honey?" He looked at Tina.

"No thanks. I'm fine," Tina responded. "No water or juice right now." She looked at Solange. "That's all I get to drink these days."

They chatted for a long while before Tina went upstairs with the baby who had gotten a bit cranky. Besides, she felt that Trent and Solange needed 'alone time' in order to get better acquainted with each other.

"Don't you think it's rather odd that we both were raised without any brothers or sisters?" Trent asked.

Solange had just taken another sip of her wine and was resting the glass down. "I guess it is."

"I never would've thought in a million years after all that time growing up and wishing I had a sibling that all these years later I would find out that I actually have one," Trent added. "I can't tell you how happy I am that you finally came out and told me. For the past few days, I've done a great deal of reflecting. Life for me, for the first time, feels... complete."

"It does for me too." Solange felt the same overwhelming sense of gratitude he expressed. "When my parents died, I felt such loneliness beyond what I can adequately describe. I had no one else to lean on other than my uncle who passed away some months ago. He wasn't my real uncle, but to me, he was."

"I'm sorry for your loss," Trent said. He took a deep breath and leaned in." Look... I know what you said in Fung's about not wanting anything from me, but the truth is that you are my sister and as far as I'm concerned, you deserve a fair share of our mother's estate."

Solange started shaking her head in protest.

"Just hear me out... please," Trent raised his hand. "I know I'm not under any legal obligation to do this due to the circumstances surrounding the adoption, but I have a conscience and that has been the one thing that has always guided me." He paused for a moment, then resumed. "All throughout my life, I had everything I ever wanted that money could buy. I don't know what it's like to not have what I need; to not be able to pay my bills; to not have more than enough food in my refrigerator to eat; to not be able to keep a decent roof over my head; to slave at a job making minimum wage or taking in a salary that was gone the moment I received it due to obligations. Nevertheless, I always had a heart for people who struggled from day to day and every opportunity I get to help others — as my conscience guides me — I do so." His eyes were fixated on hers. "Solange, you are the sister I've always wanted. I don't know you the way I wish I could have had we been raised together, but in spite of that, I already feel connected to you and I do have love in my heart for you. I also know you're having a tough time right now."

Solange lowered her head.

"Working there at Fung's is back-breaking work," he continued. "That place is always crowded; I see how hard you work. I also spoke with your good friend, Sonia."

"You did?" Solange was surprised.

"Yes, I did and she said that you had been working double shifts for weeks now."

Solange shook her head again — dismayed by how much Sonia managed to run her mouth.

"She told me you wouldn't like the fact that she ran her mouth about it," Trent said. "The point I'm trying to make is that from now on all of that is going to change. Our mother left some stocks in a particular company that I've never touched; I had no reason to. I've checked the account yesterday and they now have a value of roughly 1.4 million dollars. I'm turning that over to you."

Solange's eyes widened with shock — they felt like they were about to pop out of her head.

"I'm not finished yet..." he said.

Solange was looking at him as if he had lost all sense of logic.

"I have something else in mind, but for starters, I will also make you vice-president of First Provincial."

"What?" Solange was flabbergasted. "But I have no experience in banking or anything like that."

Trent got up, walked over to her and offered both hands. She gently placed hers in his and stood as well. "No experience necessary," he said. "You are my sister and a Matheson. You'll learn the ropes." He hugged her so tightly that Solange thought that he was about to squeeze the very life out of her. When they parted, they both had tears in their eyes.

"This is so overwhelming," Solange sobbed. "I can't believe this is happening."

"Believe it. It's happening," Trent said, wiping his face with the back of his hand. "Welcome home, sis."

10

A New Beginning

Solange walked into First Provincial Bank & Trust with her brother at her side.

"Nervous?" Trent asked quietly.

"Yes," Solange muttered.

"Don't be. We're all like family here."

Clara hurried around to the front of the booth. "Miss Matheson, it is such a pleasure to finally meet you!" She said excitedly. They quickly exchanged a handshake. "Haven't we met before though? Your face looks quite familiar."

"This is Clara Eaves — one of the bank's most trusted and long-term employees," Trent said.

"It is a pleasure to meet you as well, Miss Eaves," Solange replied. "And yes, I was here several months ago."

Clara turned to Trent with a motherly scold. "How come you didn't introduce me to your sister before?" She asked.

"I really can't get into that right now, Clara," Trent returned. "It's a long story."

She re-focused her attention on Solange. "Well then, I think you ought to know that everyone is anxiously awaiting your arrival, dear," she quietly said.

"Oh my," Solange touched her chest. She suddenly felt so important.

Everyone had gathered on the third floor. "Welcome home!" They shouted as soon as Solange and Trent stepped out of the elevator.

Solange glanced at Trent. "They set that part up on their own." He smiled.

"Good morning, everyone," Trent said. "It is my great pleasure to introduce to all of you, my sister — Solange Matheson Deneuve. As you all know, she's our new vice-president and I know you will make her feel right at home."

Solange stepped forward a little. "It's so nice to see all of you," she started. "Thank you very much for such a warm greeting. I recognize many of your faces from Fung's restaurant where I used to work. I guess it seems kind of odd that recently I was taking some of your orders for burgers or fried chicken and now I'm here before you assuming an office — I'll be the first to say — that I'm not qualified for."

There were chuckles in the background.

"I would like to thank my brother for accepting me with open arms and it is my heart-felt wish that you would accept me also. I am very humbled by all of this." Solange realized that she was now at a crossroads: Her real name had been used publicly and there was no taking it back. She secretly hoped that her decision to connect with her brother would not ultimately be the worst mistake she could have ever made.

* * *

Around mid-morning, Trent strolled into what used to be Peter's office. Solange was sitting at the desk reading some notes.

"How's it going?" He asked.

"Everything's just fine," Solange replied, resting the papers down.

"Where's Marcie?"

"Oh, she offered to get us some coffee. She's really teaching me a lot of interesting things."

"That's great. I knew she would do a perfect job filling you in on the day to day operations — aside from what you and I went over already." He looked around the office. "No one's occupied this space since Peter died."

"I can tell that he meant a lot to you — that you two were very close friends," Solange said.

"Yeah. We used to be." Trent sighed.

Solange knew there was more he wanted to share.

He sat down in front of her. "Peter and I were very close for many years. We were like brothers."

"What happened?" Solange asked curiously.

Feeling the disappointment in his heart like he did the night his friend revealed that he was willing to kill him in order to take control of the company, he said: "He got greedy. Suddenly, material things meant more to him than brotherhood. He had this insatiable desire for more wealth — much more than he could have ever spent." Trent rested his head on the back of the chair, unsure if he should have even mentioned it to her.

"That's sad," Solange replied. "Betrayal is the most terrible thing and what's scary is... it's only those you really love and care about that have the ability to hurt you at that level. If it's a stranger or someone you don't care for very much, there's not much of a sting."

"You're right — the pain cuts inside you like a knife. That's why I would've preferred if it was almost anyone else that betrayed me other than Peter. I just never thought for a second that he had it in him." He shifted in his seat, the pressure in his face visible. "But what's done is done; we can't undo the past and regardless of our situation, I never would've wished any harm on him. He didn't deserve to die that way."

"That's true," Solange noted. She was gripped with compassion and wanted to get up and put her arms around him, and tell him it's okay.

"Anyway," Trent sighed, "I won't take up anymore of your time. I know you have a lot of information to read through, so I'll leave you to it."

"Okay. We'll talk again later," she replied.

Just as he was getting up, Marcie walked in with two cups of coffee in hand.

Trent nodded to her on his way out.

* * *

"Would you like for me to give the little one a sponge bath?" Amina asked as Tina laid the baby in bed.

"Thanks Amina, but there's no need. Took care of that before you arrived this morning," Tina replied.

"That early?"

Tina was confused. "Why? Is there a problem?"

"No. No problem," Amina quickly answered. "I was just thinking that giving a newborn a sponge bath before 7:00am might expose him to early morning draft - that's all."

"It's not like I'm bathing him outside, Amina. I appreciate your concern, but I am quite capable of taking care of my own child," Tina riposted.

"Pardon me, Miss Tina, but I was not implying that you're not. Please excuse me." She bowed her head slightly and left the room.

"Amina!"

"Yes, Miss?" Amina peeped back.

"I'm going to take a shower now. Would you keep an eye on the baby for me until I'm done?" Tina asked.

"Certainly. I will watch him."

"Thank you." Tina grabbed her robe. "And I'm sorry that I snapped at you. I didn't mean it."

"Oh, that's nothing," Amina remarked. "We all have our moments. I don't take it personally."

"That's good," Tina said before entering the bathroom.

As the water drizzled down her naked body, Tina felt like she was in the clouds. Although she adored little Foster, every minute she got to herself felt like a well-deserved luxury.

After several minutes of basking in her precious alone time, she grabbed a large towel from the rack and stepped out onto the mat. As she dried her face, something appeared before her. She froze. It was standing approximately six feet away, then gradually and seemingly effortlessly, got closer. Now, it was right in front of her.

The hooded figure's black hole of a face was darker than anything she had ever seen. Where there was no mouth, Tina felt a cold breath of air escape — so cold that it subtly bit her face. The thick, black garment her uninvited guest was wearing appeared to possess an aura of its own.

She tried to utter the words: Please... don't hurt me! Strangely, they wouldn't escape. Enveloped with fear, she desperately hoped, at that moment, that the entity could read her thoughts.

"Surrender the child..." went a deep, sepulchral voice from the faceless figure. The words seemed to penetrate Tina's very soul, then suddenly, there was a single, loud thunderclap — probably the loudest she had ever heard in her life and in a flash, the visitor was gone.

Tina took a deep breath in, feeling like the air had been literally sucked out of her body. "Amina!" She cried at the top of her lungs as she rushed into the bedroom.

"What's wrong, Miss?" Amina sprung up from the bed in a panic.

"Get the baby bag for me now!" Tina demanded.

"Are you going somewhere?"

"Yes. Just get the bag!"

"Okay. I will call Mister Matheson," Amina said.

"No, Amina!" Tina rejoined. "I don't have time for that!" She yanked open a drawer and quickly threw on a sweat pants and a shirt. She then grabbed a luggage bag from the closet. Amina had retrieved the baby bag and was standing there confused as Tina started filling the luggage bag with clothing for herself and the baby.

"I'll go with you," Amina said.

"No, Amina. Go home now! Mister Matheson will call when he needs you," Tina directed, pulling her hair into a ponytail.

Amina backed out of the room and hurried downstairs to the living room. She picked up the phone from the side table and dialed Trent's number.

"Matheson...." He answered on the first ring.

"Sir, this is Amina."

Trent instantly heard the consternation in her voice. "Is everything all right, Amina?" He asked.

"No, sir. I know you said that Miss Tina is not supposed to be alone with the baby, but she's packed up and about to leave the house."

"Why? What happened?" Trent probed.

"I don't know, sir. She just rushed out of the bathroom and started to pack." Just then, Tina descended the stairway with the baby. "Amina, bring the bags to the car for me please. Hurry!"

"Amina, let me speak with her," Trent urged.

"Yes, sir. She's right here. Miss Tina, Mister Matheson would like to speak with you," she said, handing her the phone.

Annoyed, Tina snatched the phone from her. "Honey, I can't talk right now. We have to get out of here. They want the baby."

"Tina, who wants the baby?"

"The hooded people," she said.

Trent's heart sank. Not again, he thought. "Tina, listen to me: None of that stuff is real. It's just your mind playing tricks on you. Please go lie down and relax. I'm coming home right now."

"We can't stay here, Trent. We have to leave now!"

"Wait! Wait, Tina!" Trent pleaded. "Just tell me where you're going."

"I'm going to the Clock-In Hotel on Fourth Terrace. You can meet me there and we'll devise a plan to stop these bastards," she replied.

"Okay, honey... but take Amina with you to help out."

"I don't need her, Trent!" She barked. "She needs to get out of this God-forsaken house and go home to her family!"

"Okay, honey," Trent replied cautiously. "I'll meet you at the hotel."

* * *

There was a light tap at the door. Tina peered through the peep-hole. It was him. She quickly unlocked the door.

"Oh, honey. I'm so glad you're here!" She rushed into Trent's arms.

From both sides of the door emerged two men dressed in plain, white uniforms. Then Dr. Palenski appeared from the left.

"Where's the baby, Tina?" Palenski asked.

"He's inside... asleep. Why are you here?" She was bewildered.

One of the uniformed men went inside the room.

"Honey, the doctor is here to help you," Trent started. "We're all very concerned about you."

"I'm fine," Tina replied.

"No, you're not, Tina," Palenski asserted. "We're going to take you to the hospital and we're going to run those tests we spoke about before and everything will be all right."

"The baby is asleep," the man in white stepped outside again. "He's fine."

"Of course he's fine!" Tina snapped. She looked at Trent, then at Palenski again, then back at Trent. "You did this? You called them for me?" She had the terrible sting of betrayal in her eyes.

"I'm sorry, honey. Doctor Palenski promised that they would take really good care of you. They're going to help you get back to the way you were," Trent said.

"You traitor! You sneaky, little traitor! I'm never marrying you! You're a snake, Trent Matheson!"

Palenski gave the nod and the men in white took hold of her and led her away down the corridor. Tina was kicking and screaming. "They're after the baby!" She cried. "He told me so! Trent, don't let them take our baby!"

"I won't, honey. I won't let them take him. I promise!" Trent tried his best to assure her.

"Don't worry," Palenski said to him. He could see that it broke the man's heart to have his own fiancé committed. We're going to run the appropriate tests and based upon my diagnosis, we will treat her, monitor her progress and at some point — all goes well — she'll be back home."

"What do you mean... if all goes well?" Trent asked.

"No need to worry," Mister Matheson. "Everything is going to be just fine."

Trent sighed heavily. "I can't help but wonder if all this has anything to do with her childhood; she was still having a hard time dealing with it."

"We'll get to the root of the problem — whatever it is," Palenski assured him.

* * *

Trent twisted and turned throughout the night. He felt like hell for what he had done to Tina. She had been doing so well and to suddenly have a relapse, in spite of the medication, was perplexing.

Don't let them take the baby! is what she had said. He couldn't understand her bizarre obsession with little Foster's safety. Nevertheless, the baby slept in the room with him; Tina's final words echoed in his mind.

11

Committal

He walked down the wide corridor of the hospital. White walls lined both sides and monotonous, gray tiles covered the floor. A few people wandered about — some were obviously patients and others, hospital personnel.

Trent made his way to the very last room on the right. Dr. Palenski was seated at a small desk and Tina was sitting near the wall in a straitjacket. She appeared to be heavily sedated.

"Why is she in that?" Trent asked, shocked by the sight of her.

"Hello, Mister Matheson," Palenski turned around. "We had to restrain Tina because she was out of control and we had to sedate her."

"She looks pretty sedated to me, so why is she still in that thing?"

"We're about to relieve her of that, but we could not allow her to hurt herself or anyone else for that matter. I'm sure you understand."

"Doctor Palenski," Trent looked at him sorely. "Tina doesn't have a violent bone in her body and neither is she self-destructive or suicidal. So, no... I don't understand what you're saying. I'm starting to regret this whole thing."

Palenski stood up. "Mister Matheson, I am aware that this is very difficult for you. Believe me, I completely understand... but you haven't made the wrong decision. I don't want to alarm you, but Tina threatened to bite one of our personnel if we didn't let her out. She started on a tirade and that's why we had to restrain her like this. I'm sorry, but we didn't have much of a choice. On another note, we've run a series of tests and in my professional opinion, I can safely say that Tina's behavior is symptomatic of what is known as: Paranoid schizophrenia."

Trent was stunned.

"She sees and hears things that are not real, but she believes they are. She wholeheartedly believes that someone is out to harm your baby. Tell me, do you believe that?" He asked.

Trent thought for a moment, then shook his head. "No, I don't."

"I didn't think so."

"So what's next? How do you make her better again?"

"We've administered a certain type of medication that deals specifically with her condition. However, we have to monitor her progress to see if we're on the right track with it or if we have to try something else. We've just started about a half-hour before you arrived."

Trent walked over to Tina who was sitting upright with her head hung low. She didn't seem to recognize him.

"Honey..." he said, gently lifting her chin; her head gradually lowering again. He bent over and kissed her on the forehead. "I'm here and I love you. I'm going to take you home soon."

He looked at Palenski. "Please get her out of this thing," he said, almost desperately.

"We're going to do it the moment you leave. It's time for Tina to get some rest now anyway," Palenski replied.

Trent was drenched in tears as he drove along the freeway. Paranoid schizophrenia, he thought. "Unbelievable!" Pulling into the parking lot near the elevator, at a distance of about a hundred feet, he noticed a figure standing near the side wall - dressed in black - staring. Strangely, he could not see a face.

Exiting the vehicle, he shouted, "Can I help you with something?!" He watched the figure immediately turn away, proceed further left, then disappear into thin air. Trent brushed his hair back with his hand. "Maybe my mind is playing tricks on me," he muttered.

Inside the office, he sat down and leaned back in his armchair. A few minutes later, Solange walked in.

"How are you doing?" She asked, sitting down.

"Not good," he replied.

"She's still there?"

"Yup."

"I'm so sorry, but she should be coming home soon," Solange said.

"Uh huh. I just don't understand it. She was doing so well lately. The meds seemed to be working perfectly, then all of a sudden... this again! It's always something!" He was clearly frustrated.

"I know what you mean. Is Amina with the baby?"

"Yes. I'm so glad. She's really good with him. With Tina away, we had to switch to baby formula for little Foster. His pediatrician said that's fine though. He said that any amount of breast milk the baby got already would work wonders for his body. Foster got in about a month's worth."

"Don't worry; Tina is going to be fine. Everything will go back to normal soon," Solange was confident.

"Thanks. I appreciate that," Trent replied. "I'm so glad you're here — especially now."

* * *

Trent's sleep was unbearably restless — just like all the others lately. Tina had now been gone for four days and each night seemed to present a little more of a fight for peace than the night before. Although Trent was sure he had done the right thing, something tugged at his conscience that maybe somehow, he had not done everything he possibly could before having Tina institutionalized.

The room was pitch dark. He found that the baby's sleep was not as sound whenever the lamp was left on or the faintest light invaded the room, so the thick, heavy curtains met precisely — even overlapped a bit to prevent the entrance of light from any outside sources. Trent rolled over onto his back again; no position felt ideal for a sound sleep. Sensing something unusual, he peeled open his eyes and the image of a dark-haired man dressed in a silky, royal blue coat suit came into view. In the blackness of the room, the image was unnaturally clear.

Trent immediately sat up in bed. "Pete?" He said, rubbing his eyes. "Is that you?"

The man's countenance reeked of fear and sorrow. Trent was now sure it was Peter. He was wearing his funeral suit.

"I'm sorry, bud," Peter spoke in a low voice. "I'm so sorry..."

"Why Pete? Why?" Trent asked, feeling the familiar heaviness in his heart. "You were my friend... my brother."

Peter's eyes were an unusual gray hue. His skin looked dull and pasty, and he appeared tormented. "He persuaded me to do it," he said. "I wanted it so badly. I hate myself for what I did to you."

"Are you in Heaven?" Trent asked, feeling like he already knew the answer.

"I'm trapped. They won't let me leave," was Peter's gloomy reply.

"Who Pete? Who's holding you back?"

"The Evil One."

"Tarrow?" Trent prodded.

Peter shook his head very, very slowly. "He is no longer their leader."

Trent grimaced.

"His replacement is here with you..."

Trent's heart instantly filled with indescribable fear; the terrifying sensation engulfed him.

"He is your son..." Peter revealed.

Trent's heart sunk. Surely, he did not hear the utterance of such horrible words from the mouth of his ex-best friend. "My son?" He asked.

"He is bone of their bone and flesh of their flesh." Peter's voice lagged.

"What are you talking about?" Trent was stupefied. "How can that be?"

"Deed Grumbley. White Forrester Road..." Peter replied before vanishing into thin air.

Trent pitched up from his apparent sleep, reached over and switched on the nearby floor lamp. He scanned the room — no one was there. Now certain that the baby would be disturbed by the light, he readied himself to rock him back to sleep. However, little Foster didn't budge — not even an eye-lid. He remained sound asleep.

"Deed Grumbley," Trent muttered, then suddenly, an idea struck him. He leaned over and retrieved the phone book from the night-stand. Sifting through the pages to G, he fingered the names down the column and there it was: Deed Grumbley, Address: White Forrester Road.

"Peter... the dream. It was real," Trent whispered. He looked at the desk clock: It was 4:15am. A pressing urge gripped him to call right away. That guy would think I'm crazy calling his house at this hour, he deduced. He put the phone book on the night-stand, switched off the lamp and lay back down, deciding that he would make the call at 6:00am sharp. He stared into the darkness, knowing that dawn would meet him awake.

Five fifty-five rolled in on the clock. Trent looked at the baby. He had slept through the night — not a stir; not a groan. He had been tempted to feed him at 4:00 when he first woke up, but remembered the pediatrician specifically telling them not to wake the baby in the middle of the night if it hadn't gotten up on its own. Trent stared at his chest to see if it was moving. He breathed a sigh of relief — it was.

Five fifty-seven rolled in. Almost 6:00 now. What's three minutes? Trent thought. I might as well just call now. There's no difference between now and three measly minutes later. Yes, there is! He thought again. The difference being: The guy can't accuse me of calling his residence at five something in the morning!

Six o'clock finally rolled in on the clock. What if his watch is slow and it's still five-something in the morning as far as he can tell? "Aw... forget it!" Trent grumbled. He picked up the cordless phone and dialed the number listed in the phone book.

The phone rang once, then three times. "Shoot!" went the voice on the other line.

Trent thought the man sounded remarkably sprightly for first thing in the morning. "Hello... Good morning. I'm trying to reach Deed Grumbley," he said.

"What do you want?" The person asked.

"Is this Deed?"

"Look, man... I asked you what you wanted. Do you think if I wasn't Deed I'd be wasting my time talking to you right now? What can I help you with?" He insisted.

"Oh, sorry." Trent cleared his throat. "Um... I know this is going to sound a bit strange. I don't know you, but a friend of mine suggested, in a way, that I contact you."

"Is the friend you mentioned dead or alive?" Deed asked plainly.

Trent was startled by the question. He cleared his throat again.

"He's dead. Isn't he?" Deed probed.

"Um... yes," Trent finally admitted.

"Name?"

"Peter."

"Man! That guy never leaves me alone!" Deed asserted. He sounded frustrated. "Look, come meet me in two hours. There's something you should know. Brown cottage on the western side of the road, number 32." He hung up.

Little Foster was just waking up. Trent noticed that his straight, black hair had grown a little longer overnight — at least another two inches or so. He picked the baby up, gave him a kiss on the forehead, then started to change his diaper. He had a freshly-made bottle on the night-stand ready for him.

12

The Frightening Truth

An hour after Amina arrived, Trent headed out for number 32 White Forrester Road. This trip reminded him of his weird encounter months earlier with Madam Sosu. He wasn't looking forward to a similar experience.

He pulled onto the gravel driveway of the little, brown cottage and exited the car. Looking ahead at the high, front porch, he noticed that the door was widely ajar. After mounting the last step, he heard something.

"Come right on in!" The sprightly voice from earlier cried out.

Deed Grumbley was in the kitchen making tea when Trent walked inside. He was of medium height and build; had brown hair, a neatly-trimmed moustache and a short, pointy beard. He was wearing a blue and red, long-sleeved plaid shirt and washed-out blue jeans held up by a gold cowboy belt. "Want some green tea?" He asked.

"No, thanks," Trent answered. "Should I close this?" He was holding onto the door.

"Please do." Deed picked up his tea from the counter and walked over to a small sitting room. "Have a seat." He took a small sip, then rested his cup on the log table nearby. "I assume you're the guy that owns the bank downtown."

"Yes. The name's Trent Matheson. How do you know?" Trent asked.

"This Peter friend of yours told me the whole deal."

"You knew Pete before he passed away?"

"No. I kinda got to know him after he passed." Deed took another sip. "I'm gonna get straight to the point, okay?"

"Okay." Trent was in full agreement.

"I'm one of those people that has a kind of extrasensory perception, you might say. In other words... I see things and hear things some people don't see or hear. Am I psychic? I think not — whatever that really means. Am I what you might call 'sensitive'? I'd kinda go with that." He sighed. "For most of my life — actually ever since I can remember — the dead seems to find me, then many of them, depending on the circumstances surrounding their death, tend to latch on to me. They talk to me like I'm talking to you right now. Okay, sometimes they're not as chattery or they take a little while to get to the point of why they showed up, but the point is always made. Your friend is one of those special people I mentioned that's made it his business to latch onto me like glue and to be perfectly honest with you, I've pretty much had it up to here with it!" He raised his hand to his forehead. "You getting in touch with me this morning is awesome because hopefully after this, I can get this guy off my back."

Trent sat quietly, fascinated by what he was hearing. He could tell that Deed was no Madam Sosu.

"First of all..." Deed continued, "...the guy is really sorry about how he screwed you over. He's related that to me at least a dozen times already. Has he apologized yet?"

"Yes," Trent affirmed. "Last night was the first time I ever dreamed of him since he died. It felt so real — like he was right there in the room with me."

"He was, partner. That was no dream," Deed said.

"It wasn't?"

"No. Anyway, after all of Peter's mumbling that you were in some sort of danger, I decided to do some research on your family's history and I must say that no archive or registry has the full story — the true story." His gaze at Trent was now piercing. "Peter mentioned something of a Mortica Tribe. Strangely, I was able to pull up something online that was apparently pure speculation - some sort of urban legend crap. Only thing is... it's no urban legend. It's not even speculation. It's true; isn't it?"

Trent felt trapped by the question. The four walls of the room seemed to be closing in.

"No need to worry, partner. I know all about it. Peter spilled the beans about the whole thing. Much of what he mentioned came up with that research that probably whoever reads it doesn't even believe. See, no individual name is tied to it, so no one can trace any of that history back to you. Tell me... how did you get to find out about your ancestry?" He asked.

Trent was noticeably hesitant, but it was clear that the man knew exactly what he was saying. "My grandfather revealed certain things to me, but my father filled in some of the blanks," Trent answered.

"I see. It's kinda funny how they used the name: Mortica Tribe as if it's some regular tribe similar to Indian tribes or something - when it's totally different from that," Deed indicated.

"What do you mean?" Trent asked; his curiosity heightened.

"You mean your father or grandfather didn't tell you?" Deed looked stunned.

Trent's ensuing silence spoke volumes.

"You mean... you don't know they were all fallen angels?"

Trent gasped. "Fallen angels? Like those mentioned in the Bible?"

Deed nodded. "I can't believe you're this much in the dark. They were giants remember? They were able to transform themselves at will from beasts — hideous beasts — which was their true nature after they were dumped here, into what appeared to be human. Their mating with human women is what made you who you are today."

"But... they're demons," Trent said reluctantly.

Deed nodded again - this time rather slowly. "That's your heritage, my friend. After centuries had passed, they no longer mated with humans and that decision became a sort of law they had to abide by. They hated humans way too much as we reminded them of Him," he pointed upwards. "They had something else in mind for us — better than using people for demented sex, etcetera. Did you know about the raid?"

"It was mentioned briefly," Trent replied.

"Well, the raid was set in motion to destroy the remnants of this so-called Mortica Tribe that were still here in the flesh centuries later. It was a covert government operation designed to rid the world of them for good. The descendants of these fallen angels who were mainly stuck here with their beastly nature after countless years of not mating with humans, had lived out their existence in the dense, dark woods away, for the most part, from civilization. They only interacted with people when they were ready to cannibalize them, use them for sacrifices, or just brutally kill and dump them — and so forth. For centuries, many people were slaughtered in this city and no one knew what was really going on until someone spotted them in the woods one day — some decades ago — who had narrowly escaped with her life and told authorities and anyone else who would listen what she saw. That woman, partner... was your mother."

Trent got up and walked over to the window. He shook his head as the wave of information felt overwhelming. "How do you know all this?" He asked.

"Your friend, Peter."

Looking out of the window, Trent said: "But I never told him about my family's secret. How could he possibly tell you all of this — which is much more than I ever knew?"

"He's over there now and is privy to this information. Nothing there is a secret," Deed replied.

"He said he's trapped — that they're keeping him there, wherever there is."

Deed sighed. He wasn't quite as animated anymore. "He's trapped in his own guilt over what he did to you. They're not keeping him there — they're just making his stay as miserable as possible every chance they get. He's trapped there because he hasn't made it right; he can't seem to get past the guilt. Maybe somehow, you can help him. I know I can't. I'm just a listening ear, partner."

Trent turned and looked at him. "How?"

"I'm not sure. Your heart is gonna have to guide you with that one."

"I'm reluctant to say this... because it didn't make any sense at all, but he mentioned something about my son."

"Yeah. I was getting to that rather delicate subject. You have a newborn?" Deed asked.

"Yes."

"Plain and simple — they want him, but you will have to willingly hand him over. There's no other way."

"Why?" Trent probed. "Why do they want my son?"

"The foot soldiers of these fallen angels desire to initiate him. When was he born?"

"July 6th," Trent responded.

"Figures! The date the season started for the so-called Mortica Tribe. Apparently, the half-human, half-beast that comes forth into the world on that exact date assumes the position as leader and whoever the current leader is gets the boot and becomes like all the others. His power is stripped as well as his pride."

Trent pondered the explanation. "That's why he tried so hard to kill me."

"Excuse me. Who?" Deed asked.

"Tarrow, a.k.a the Evil One — their leader."

"I guess that explains it," Deed said.

"I thought all along that he despised me because he felt my father had betrayed the tribe by sleeping with a human, my mother, but all the while, he had another motive in mind."

"Precisely."

"Well, I'm not turning over my son to anyone — certainly not to a pack of demons. They'd have to go through my dead body first!" Trent snarled.

"That's what Peter's afraid of," Deed replied. "Tell me, do you notice anything weird about your son?"

"Weird?"

"Yeah. Would you say he's growing at an accelerated rate?" Deed came straight out with it.

Trent's heart sunk to the floor. "Yes... he is. What does that mean?"

"It confirms to me that he's no ordinary child — not even quite like you although you, yourself are not what one might call ordinary. Peter said some time ago that it would grow at a rapid speed. Before I did my research, I thought he was talking crap, but I see, from what you've just said, that he's right."

"Tina was right all along." Guilt bubbled back up more than before.

"Tina? Who's that?"

"My fiancé. She had been seeing certain things that I didn't think or didn't want to believe were real. If what she was saying was true, then I would have had to face the grim possibility that my worst nightmare had not really ended months ago," Trent explained. He went and sat back down again. "Tell me... what do these foot soldiers you mentioned look like?"

"All I know is that they're always dressed in black," Deed replied.

"Are they hooded? Void of faces?" Trent probed.

"The real them are flesh and bone like you and me. What you described is their appearance after they've astral projected into someone else's domain."

"My God... she saw them and I didn't believe her. I thought she was..."

"Nuts?"

"A little." Trent was ashamed to admit it. "This only started happening to her after the baby came. I have to get her out of there."

"Where is she?"

"In a mental hospital — I just wanted her to get better," he said.

Deed leaned forward. "Listen to me. I know you might not wanna hear this, but that might be the safest place for your fiancé right now."

"Why is that?" Trent asked.

"From what you said, I gather that they were mainly harassing her about the baby. Am I right?"

"I guess so." Trent nodded.

"They felt she was the weaker one out of you two and figured that if they harassed her long enough, she would eventually give in — even if they had totally driven her insane to do so. They know in her natural state of mind as a mother, she would never willingly hand over the child. Like I said, the baby has to be handed over to them; they cannot just come and take the baby. They knew you would be a tougher nut to crack and that's why they picked on your girlfriend instead. But I'm gonna tell you now... they will stop at nothing to claim their leader. These foot soldiers are not there to just show up and scare the living daylights out of anyone: They're here on a mission and I have a pretty, nasty hunch that things can get rather messy if that child is not handed to them."

"What I don't get is how a baby can be leader of anything," Trent wondered.

"To you, it looks and acts like a regular baby, but if those foot soldiers get access and start communicating continuously with the child, the child soon communicates back telepathically with them."

"How can that be?"

"Beats me. Like I said... your son is no ordinary child."

"So what do I do?" Trent had a grave expression on his face.

Deed sighed heavily. "I don't know."

End of book 2...

——————————————————

Excerpt from Real Illusions III: BONE OF MY BONE

1

The Hard Truth

"Okay, I hope you're happy now," Deed said to the ghost that stood next to him. "I told him the whole deal; now do you mind just going away for a while and giving me some extra room to breathe?"

They were both standing in the doorway watching as Trent reversed out of the yard.

"He won't listen," Peter said solemnly.

"Well, that's just too bad. Ain't it?" Deed gave him an irritated look. "Not my problem, buddy. Remember... I'm just the messenger."

He turned around only to find Peter directly in front of him. "He loves her too much," Peter said, his eyes so dull and lifeless—the looks of which made Deed want to take a drink.

"So what does that have to do with me?" Deed probed. "What're you saying anyway? He loves her too much. What? What?"

Peter's gaze was piercing. "You must warn him," he said before vanishing into thin air.

Deed shook his head. "That guy's determined to be a needle in my butt. The more you do for these blasted ghosts the more they want from you! Hell with it!" He slammed the front door.

* * *

This just can't be happening, Trent thought. That Deed Grumbley guy must be out of his mind! Yet, deep inside Trent knew better—the guy had spoken with such veracity that only a fool would choose to ignore what had stared him right in the face. As he pulled into the parking lot of the hospital, the fact that Deed basically confirmed everything Tina had been telling him all the while weighed heavily on Trent. She was in a place he knew she didn't belong and he had put her through so much emotional pain that he was certain she would never forgive him.

He picked up the single rose he had purchased at a stop light on his way there and walked into the building toward Palenski's office.

"Come right in!" Palenski was standing at his desk. "When my secretary said you were here, I knew I couldn't have you waiting as you're a very busy man, Mister Matheson."

Trent took a seat. He hadn't recalled seeing Palenski that upbeat before and wondered if his partial consumption of the cup of coffee on his desk was responsible.

"Is that for me?" Palenski asked, eyeing the rose.

"I think not," Trent replied, obviously in no mood for meaningless chatter and definitely not for jokes.

Palenski sat down. "Can I offer you some coffee or tea?"

"No thanks, Doc. I'm just here to see Tina and to find out how she's progressing."

"Well, the good news is that we might have pin-pointed the appropriate medication for her. She's responding very well to it and after a little more observation, I would be able to revert to you. If she continues to do well, she will be back home with you and your baby in short order. However, the key is to ensure that she takes her medication precisely as prescribed because we don't want any distressing episodes to arise as before. You know what I mean."

"I do," Trent affirmed.

"Well, I don't want to keep you any longer than necessary, so I'll walk with you to her room. We can chat on the way."

They headed down the corridor toward Tina's room.

"Yes, she's been doing remarkably well; I must say," Palenski noted as he walked with both hands stashed into his coat pockets.

"I'm glad to hear that," Trent replied.

"I can only imagine what an ordeal this has been for you, Mister Matheson, but the good thing is that Tina's condition can be controlled and that's what we're all working towards."

Trent nodded and said very little during the walk.

"Well, we're here," Palenski opened the door, allowing Trent to enter first. Tina was lying in bed asleep.

"Tina," Palenski went over to her.

She slowly peeled open her eyes.

"Guess who's here?"

Tina looked to her left. Trent was standing about a foot away from Palenski. She had no reaction.

"Hi, honey," Trent moved in closer as the doctor backed away. Tina only looked at him. Though not quite herself, Trent could see that she was more alert than she had been the last time he saw her.

Palenski quietly exited the room.

"I brought this for you," Trent handed Tina the rose. She cautiously accepted it and he leaned over and kissed her lips. "I love you," he said, cheek pressed gently against hers. "I'm so sorry I didn't believe you."

As Trent stood up again, Tina was staring at him. She was amazed that somehow he had finally seen the light.

"I told you," she spoke softly. "How could you not believe me?" Her face bore the invisible wound of betrayal.

"I'm sorry," Trent was shaking his head as tears slithered down his cheeks.

She reached for his hand. "Have you seen them?"

"No, but I know you told the truth."

"Is the baby..."

"He's safe."

Tina breathed a sigh of relief, then slowly sat up in bed. "

"Amina?"

"Yeah. She's with him," Trent said.

"She mustn't hand him over," Tina was adamant.

"She won't do that. They won't bother her."

"How do you know?"

Trent took a seat. "I spoke with someone this morning who knows what's going on. I need you to understand that I have everything under control and no harm will come to our son. You're wrong about the house though. It's not the house that's drawing them there. No matter where we decided to move to, they would find us, so no sense running. You've got to believe that."

Tina was listening.

"I just want you to listen to the doctor and focus on getting out of here. Once he sees you're doing better, he'll discharge you, but if you keep talking about the baby being in danger, they will keep you here longer. Do you understand me?"

"Yes." She nodded.

"When you get out of here, we're going to tackle this situation together; we'll get married and everything will be fine."

Tina smiled.

"Okay." Trent kissed her hand. "I'll be back later, but remember what I said."

"I will."

They embraced tightly.

Get 'Real Illusions III - BONE OF MY BONE' Now!

SIGN UP NOW.

Get the other exciting books in this series!

Click on the images to order.  
Book 1 in the Real Illusions series.

Book 4 - THE FINALE!

### New Release!

This is going to be one unforgettable journey  
across the deep, blue sea.

No member of the crew could have ever imagined it. Will they survive the upcoming terror or will they be so frightened that they'd opt to find an easier way out?
