The next morning, I woke up feeling good -energized and mentally clear- despite the aches and pain lingering throughout my body, but those couldn't be helped; only time would heal them. I knew I needed to get up, but the comfort of lying beside Zeke tugged at me to stay nestled right where I was. The urge was strong as I watched him lie peacefully in slumber next to me, his gentle snoring filling our quiet room. Shifting in the bed, I propped myself on my elbow to look at his sleeping form and admire his serene and beautiful face. That term may not have been typical to use for a man, but it didn't matter. That was how he appeared to me in this moment, beautifully handsome. I continued to watch his chest rise and fall in a soothing rhythm that nearly lulled me back to sleep. I traced my finger down his nose, along his chin, onto his chest, feeling an overwhelming sense of love and belonging. He was mine, and I was his. I could have stayed in that spot all day, but I had to get up. Leaning over, I kissed him softly and then rolled away before I changed my mind and stayed. His arms reached out instinctively, missing me. I placed my pillow in them, watching him smile as he hugged it, making me chuckle. I quickly slipped from the bed and tiptoed across the floor, not wanting to wake him.
While searching through my closet for comfortable clothes, my mind kept drifting back, reminding myself over and over to copy the new information we found for Agent Williams, not wanting to forget anything important. After a few minutes, I settled on a soft sweater and well-worn jeans. After getting dressed, I moved around my room, collecting the paperwork and the shoe box into my arms. On my way out of the room, I grabbed my phone off the charger, tucking it into my jeans back pocket.
Reaching my grandfather's home office - now mine - and stepped in, pausing for a moment, letting the gentle warmth and familiarity of the room wash over me. It had been some time since I had last entered the room, but the comforting aura made me feel as though my grandfather was quietly watching over me, guiding from afar. Smiling at the thought, I carefully placed everything on the desk, then turned and headed straight for the kitchen, intent on having my morning cup of coffee to help me start my day.
Uncle Donovan was already at the kitchen table, holding a cup of steaming coffee. His face lit up with a warm smile when I entered, signaling me to sit down. Rising from his chair, he walked over to the coffee pot and carefully selected a cup with a delicate rose pattern—the one my mom liked best—and poured hot coffee into it. I sat watching him closely, happy to have another family member nearby. He noticed me smiling at him and softly set the steaming cup down in front of me. I accepted it with gratitude as I watched him settle into his seat. He then leaned back comfortably, as if this were a normal part of his routine.
"It's been ages since I just sat in this kitchen, lazily drinking coffee," Uncle Donovan mused, his gaze distant, as if he were recalling old memories, fond ones. He seemed to know what I was feeling even before anything was said. "Hey, kid, how are you feeling?" he asked, his voice gentle with concern woven into each word.
Picking up my phone, I typed quickly, "My body is still sore, but mentally I actually feel good today. A lot better than normal," and placed it on the table where he could see the words himself. A smile crept upon his face and broadened. His relief and happiness radiated across the table, enveloping me.
"We have some time before Agent Williams arrives. How about I make us breakfast, like your grandma used to?" He asked, my stomach answered for me, growling loudly already on board before I could say yes. Hearing that, he laughed and got up to head to the fridge. "I hope you don't mind, but I've already checked what's in your fridge. How about sausage, mushrooms, onion, and cheese for omelets? Omelets are my specialty; your grandma taught me how to make them," Uncle Donovan rambled. Giggling at his nervousness, I gently placed my hand on his arm to pause his chatter.
"Omelets sound great," I typed out. "But I could cook; you're our guest," Looking at my phone, he shook his head no and smiled at me.
"Please let me do it. I miss cooking in this kitchen. Every weekend, Mom, Amber, and I would cook and dance to the music playing through the radio. It brings back so many great memories. "Plus, it would be an honor to cook for my niece," he said thoughtfully. Tears gathered at the bottom of his eyes as he reminisced.
I nodded in agreement at his request, knowing I could never refuse him something like that. It felt right with him here. Like the house wanted him here, it felt like it belonged not only to me but to my mother's siblings as well; the invisible force that seemed to bind me here also bound them. Every time we tried to clean out the other bedrooms, something always stopped me, like an invisible wall that couldn't be penetrated. I never questioned the feeling, and we worked on other areas throughout the house instead, like the kitchen. We updated it a lot, but it still had the cozy, warm feeling.
The childhood bedrooms of my aunt and uncles remained untouched, and no one had entered them; all their belongings remained as they left them on that tragic night. The only room I was comfortable entering was my mom's. I planned to keep a lot of her mementos. Eventually, we planned to clean out the master bedroom, my grandparents' room, and move in, but I wanted my uncles and aunt to go through their possessions with me; that's why it's so important to find Samuel and Betty. I'm sure there are some keepsakes they wanted to hold on to.
Uncle Donovan moved easily around the kitchen, dancing to soft rock music he was playing through his phone. I smiled at the scene and could imagine my mother dancing right alongside her big brother; in fact, she used to do this with me when I was a kid. Every time we cooked or cleaned, she would turn on the radio and grab my hands, twirling me around the room, while smiling brightly and singing at the top of our lungs. Tears started to fall, coating my cheeks, and the longing for my mom seemed to press hard on my chest. The ache of her loss never went away, especially in moments like this that made it almost unbearable; she should be here right by my side.
A plate filled with fragrant food was set before me, interrupting my train of thought. My stomach growled loudly, making us both laugh and prompting us to start eating. We ate quickly and silently, stopping conversation to clean up and prepare the documents for Agent Williams's arrival. Everything was delicious, though swallowing still caused some pain, which gradually lessened each day. I hoped my vocal cords would recover enough for me to speak again, as typing became increasingly tiring. After finishing our meal, we hurriedly tidied up, refilled our coffee cups, and headed to the home office.
"Are you ready for this, Roxanne?" Uncle Donovan asked as we sat at the desk. I offered him my best smile and nodded to reassure him. I pulled the items from the box, and we hurriedly copied them, placing them into piles of originals and copies. Agent Williams would keep the copies for his records; the originals would stay with us. I wouldn't give them up easily. I still didn't fully trust Williams; he hadn't done anything to justify my distrust. It was more a matter of caution on my part. As Donovan finished the copies, I quickly printed the document about my dream, detailing everything that happened to the twins. Agent Williams might think I'm crazy, but that was okay. If the information helps, that's what matters.
We were so engaged in our activity that we didn't hear the doorbell or notice Zeke coming downstairs. We were startled when Zeke knocked on the door frame, causing both of us to jump. As we looked to see who was there, we saw Agent Williams standing slightly behind Zeke, who was leaning against the door frame, smiling at us. Clearly, he was amused because he startled us.
"Hey Zeke, we didn't hear you come downstairs," Uncle Donovan greeted him before turning to Williams. "Hello, Agent Williams, glad you were able to make it." Zeke stepped further into the room to let Agent Williams enter as well.
"Thank you for allowing me to come," Williams replied as he extended his hand to each one of us, giving a strong, steady handshake. "Mr. Anderson was gracious enough to let me in and lead me here." He spoke with an air of authority that radiated from him.
"No problem," Zeke said, then turned his attention to me. "Rocky, I need to go to the office to help Dad organize some things for our upcoming worksites next week. It should only take a couple of hours. Will you be okay until I return?" I nodded and walked over to hug him. "I can stop by and bring home some takeout tonight. I'm sure you both will be too tired after today to cook." I smiled warmly, showing that the idea sounded good to me. He leaned down and kissed my forehead.
"Don't worry, Zeke, I will take care of our girl while you're out." Uncle Donovan said to ease Zekes' worries. Since the last attack, he wasn't comfortable leaving me home alone. Having my uncle here seemed to make him feel more secure about my safety.
"Thank you, I appreciate it. I told Rocky I'd pick up something to eat tonight. Let me know if Andy and Sharon show up; I'll get enough for them, too," Zeke explained. Donovan assured him that we would check in later. He said goodbye again and left quickly, needing to go to work after spending too much time taking care of me. Guilt weighed on me because I had already taken up so much of his time with recent incidents. After the front door closed, I focused entirely on Donovan and Agent Williams.
"Ok, so where do you want to start?" Agent Williams asked. "We can start with the shoebox you found or the phone call about Samuel and Betty."
"Let's start with Samuel and Betty first, but let me explain that Roxanne is not able to use her voice yet. Please bear with her as she uses her text app," Uncle Donovan stated. I appreciated his telling Agent Williams. Of course, Agent Williams had already heard about the incident the day it happened. He seemed concerned about my proximity to Ted as well.
"I understand completely. Miss Sleighton, if at anytime you have something to add, tap the desk, and we will stop and listen," Agent Williams said in a calm voice. He never gave away his emotions. He always had a calm, collected look on his face; it must have been something they were taught at Quantico. Instead of waiting for me to acknowledge his words, he continued to talk. "Two days ago, a woman contacted our office to say she thinks her family was murdered when she was a child. Her information was taken down, and a statement of details was obtained. She described what she could remember of the night she and her brother met their adoptive parents."
As he continued explaining the call to my uncle, I quickly grabbed the document describing my dream and tapped the table to get their attention. Grabbing my phone, I typed, "What she described of the night did it sound like this?" Lying the phone near the agent, I also handed him the paper. He slowly picked it up and read. This was the first time I had seen him allow any emotion to cross his face. It was one of shock. He slowly raised his head, cooling his features, and looked at me.
"Where did you get this information?" he asked curiously.