THE NIGHT THEY TOOK MY SON

A Psychological Thriller Novel

Written by Spencer Guerrero

Copyright © 2025 by Spencer Guerrero.

All rights reserved. No part of this publication
may be copied, reproduced in any format, by any means, electronic or otherwise, without prior consent from the copyright owner.

This is a work of fiction. All characters, names, places, and events are the product of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. 

Contents

TRIGGER WARNING

ENJOY THE SHOW...

1. PROLOGUE

2. CHAPTER 1

3. CHAPTER 2

4. CHAPTER 3

5. CHAPTER 4

6. CHAPTER 5

7. CHAPTER 6

8. CHAPTER 7

9. CHAPTER 8

10. CHAPTER 9

11. CHAPTER 10

12. CHAPTER 11

13. CHAPTER 12

14. CHAPTER 13

15. CHAPTER 14

16. CHAPTER 15

17. CHAPTER 16

18. CHAPTER 17

19. CHAPTER 18

20. CHAPTER 19

21. CHAPTER 20

22. CHAPTER 21

23. CHAPTER 22

24. EPILOGUE

25. THANK YOU READER!

26. PLEASE REVIEW!

27. MORE BOOKS AVAILABLE!

28. ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

29. ABOUT THE AUTHOR

TRIGGER WARNING

POTENTIAL SPOILERS BELOW

This book includes murder, death, domestic abuse, child abduction, non-graphic mentions of sexual assault, non-graphic mentions of child abuse, mention of child death, mention of drug use, mention of suicide, and some intense scenes of violence. 

Reader Discretion Is Advised.

ENJOY THE SHOW...

“As I’ve grown older, I’ve realized that humans are worse than the monsters who used to live under our beds.”

- S.G.

PROLOGUE

2017

“Do your homework, and wash the dishes, Charlie. Now!” Phoebe commanded.

“Let me just finish the level. I can’t pause it. Please Mom, please,” Charlie pleaded. 

Phoebe had been going back and forth with Charlie for several minutes. It wasn’t the first time either, and Phoebe was over it. Phoebe always asked nicely, but he repeatedly forced her hand. She had to be “mean” to get him to listen. Something she didn’t take pleasure in. 

She stormed over to him and yanked the power cords out of the gaming system. The TV screen went black, and he acted like she had plunged a knife into his little heart. Charlie’s face curled into pure rage and then resentment. He hated her at that moment. She saw flashes of his thoughts escaping his mind, and he wanted her dead. That’s what he was thinking about—because all young boys wish their mother dead when they don’t get what they want. Children don’t understand what death means yet, and they don’t mean it—but it still stung. 

Charlie stood up and threw his gaming controller against a nearby coffee table. It clanked against the wood, and a few buttons came flying out. He stomped his foot and stormed away to the kitchen muttering obscenities under his breath. 

“What are you whispering, Charlie? Be polite and stop throwing a tantrum. If you want to be a big boy, you have to do big-boy chores once in a while. You can continue playing when you’re finished,” she explained. 

She glided over to the kitchen to make sure he was doing as he was told. She didn’t enjoy disciplining or scolding him, but she knew it was necessary to do so as a parent.

“I hate washing dishes, Mom. My back hurts. This is so frickin’ annoying!”

“It’ll take you ten minutes, tops. Don’t you know how much my back hurt when I was carrying you in my belly?” she asked, smiling. 

“I don’t care!” he snapped. 

That pierced a vein in her heart, she felt her blood running cold for a second. Kids often say the most hurtful things ever, without even blinking an eye. 

“One day you will care, Charlie.”

“Whatever! You don’t care when I play the stupid flute—you only care when I wanna play video games, only when I wanna do something I want to do—and then you take it away from me. That’s not freaking fair!”

Charlie resented her so much in that moment; he felt she was punishing him on purpose. He felt she was trying to take away video games because they “rotted” his brain. 

“What are you talking about? You enjoy playing the flute and you love music. Why are you saying that?” she asked urgently. 

“You love music. I don’t.”

Phoebe couldn’t believe he’d say something like that. She figured he was just being angry and lashing out. 

“You’re just saying that.”

“I’m not!” Charlie raised his voice. 

“Hey, calm yourself. Speak to me like a normal person.”

“I am normal!” Charlie shouted. He threw a plate he was drying against the wall, shattering it. The crinkled shards hit the ground. There was a silence. A brief surge of anger filled her belly, but she took a deep breath to calm herself. Phoebe did the best she could to not speak to her son the way her mother used to speak to her: yelling, screaming, hitting and crying—she wouldn’t repeat any of it.

“Of course you’re normal. That’s not what I meant.”

“I only play the damn flute because you want me to,” Charlie whispered. 

It was getting harder for Phoebe to maintain her patience. Defiance from washing the dishes was turning into something else entirely between Phoebe and Charlie. Something deeper, something that was rupturing their mother-son relationship.  

“Just go to your room, I’ll finish up here.” 

She had had enough, she didn’t want to hear any more spiteful words from her son. 

“No, whatever. I’ll finish the stupid thing.”

“Go to your room, Charlie!” Phoebe’s voice rose, irritation lacing her throat. 

“I said I’ll do it!”

“Go to your room, now!” She had done it. She had let her anger get the best of her and she immediately regretted it, but she didn’t express that to him. 

“Fine,” Charlie muttered. 

He walked away, sulking. She stared at his hunched back, while he hung his head. She wanted to say something, but she didn’t. She opened her mouth, but no words came out. 

Silence filled the room until it started to pour rain. Minutes later, Duncan came rushing in wearing a windbreaker. He wiped his shoes on the flowery welcome mat near the front door and marched into the kitchen. Phoebe’s husband could be described as a skinny white dude with large brown eyes, with the same bushy eyebrows her son had. 

He maintained a lanky figure because he was a basketball coach at Ebony Lake Academy along with his older brother, Sullivan. He gently placed a hand on Phoebe’s shoulder and kissed her cheek. 

“Where’s Charlie?”

She didn’t want to look at him, as he tried to steal a glance from her. 

“He’s in his room.”

“Is he okay?”

He studied my grim expression and got his answer.

“You guys had another spat?” Duncan asked politely.

“I told him to turn off the game and to do his chores. He hasn’t been listening lately. I think it’s that time, honey. Our boy is changing into a teenager who rages against the world.”

Duncan scoffed and nodded in agreement. He knew what that had been like for him and his brother. They both had experienced it in different ways. Duncan had been more reclusive, keeping his inner turmoil to himself, while Sullivan had resorted to other means of rebellion. It included drugs, “poppers”, to be exact. All because of their cold-hearted father who couldn’t be bothered to help them in any way.  

“Well, we all go through it. I’ll go talk to him.”

“Don’t mention music, you’ll set him off.”

“I told you he doesn’t like playing it. I told you, Phoebe,” he replied sternly.

She couldn’t take that; she didn’t understand it. It frustrated her so much and she wasn’t sure why. 

“He used to love it. I don’t understand why that’s changed. You think he’s getting bullied in school?” She asked.

“Maybe, but he might’ve just grown out of it. It’s not crazy to think he has new interests now. He’s a growing boy, Phoebe. I know you want that for him, but it might be the time to let it go.”

She sighed and reluctantly nodded. Charlie had this sudden shift of not wanting to play the flute in those last few months. From the ages of five to nine, he adored it. He started with a mini-flute and then graduated to a normal-sized one not long after. 

He had a gift for it, just like her, and just like her father before that. She didn’t understand his sudden shift; it plagued her thoughts like a destructive virus—infecting her mind with all the insane theories as to why her son didn’t want to follow in her footsteps anymore. 

She felt an immense pound of guilt weighing her down since she had raised her voice at him. She wanted to fix that, and apologize to him. She wanted to be a new type of parent. She didn’t have an issue with admitting she was wrong to her only son. 

“Where is he?” Duncan popped into view, interrupting her quiet self-reflection. 

“What do you mean?”

“He’s not in his room. I’ve searched everywhere. The back door was swung wide open, but I don’t know where he could be. This is weird.” 

The concern in Duncan’s voice was palpable and apparent. She froze for a second, then sprung into action. She rushed to the back of the house and went out the back door to the fenced yard. It was dark, and the torrential rain hadn’t let up. The street lamps gave some lighting, but only enough to see a few feet ahead. Duncan followed. 

“I’m texting Sullivan and the neighbors to see if they’ve seen him!” Duncan yelled over the thunderous rain. He ran back inside. 

She nodded to him and opened the fence’s door which was unlocked. Panic swelled in her chest while the rain hid the tears that began to gush down her face. 

She didn’t understand why her son wasn’t in his room and why he was gone from their home. Her racing heart was being strangled at the idea of her son being outside alone in the cold dark rain. She was getting drenched in water but she didn’t care. She just wanted to have Charlie safe and sound in her arms.

Duncan came back out and shook his head at her. 

“No one has seen him! What the hell?!” he shouted. 

She jogged through the neighborhood and started screaming his name: 

“Charlie! Charlie!”

Duncan joined her. They both started to scream out his name hoping they’d find him somewhere. Neighbors began peeking out their front doors to see what the commotion was all about. A few of them came out with umbrellas. Phoebe saw Lucia Aguilar and Billy Barnes rushing out. Charlie was friends with Lucia’s daughter, Kaya. Billy was active in the community, he helped wherever he could. Sullivan, Charlie’s uncle, joined them later on as well.

A few other neighbors she didn’t know also helped them search for Charlie. They walked around for hours and found no trace of him. The neighbors wondered where he was. They gave their thoughts and theories as to where he could’ve gone.

“Where is he?”

“He couldn’t have gone far.”

“This is crazy. Why would he leave home?”

“A boy doesn’t just disappear like this. Something strange is going on.” 

“One of those popperheads got a hold of him. I’m telling you, those people are degenerates. They’ll do anything for a quick buck.”

Duncan and Phoebe went back home and immediately called the police. After answering some pressing questions they went around the whole neighborhood and searched through a larger portion of Ebony Lake. They drove through tree-lined streets, old brick houses, decaying playgrounds, and a series of grimy and rusted warehouses where the not-so-good citizens of the town went to congregate. They were mainly composed of popperheads—addicts who abused poppers—a nasty drug mixture of various pills. These drugs had infested Ebony Lake and no one knew where they originated from.

After three days of searching nothing was found, not even a clue as to where he might’ve gone. It was surreal. A week passed by, then a month, then six months. Before she knew it, a whole year had passed. A whole year without her boy. He was officially missing—gone without a trace. 

A gaping hole of grief and utter misery had burrowed deep into her heart. A hole she woke up with every single day. Charlie’s face, his voice and his scent were ingrained into her mind and in her thoughts. She didn’t know how to live life without him, or why she just didn’t off herself the first chance she got. 

She had Duncan to think about, it affected him just as much as her. Underneath all the murkiness and horridness of having a missing child they still loved each other, but it strained their marriage. 

In the beginning, they argued, blamed and fought with each other, until grief swept over them like a blackened cloud and suffocated them. They didn’t have the energy to fight or to decide whose fault it was anymore. The media did that for them.

The Ebony Lake Informer was relentless the first year. Duncan called them evil conspiracy dwellers who were involved in crimes against humanity. He hated the world because of what had happened to his son and he blamed the “powers that be” for Charlie’s abduction. There was one thing the police had been sure of: They believed he ran away from home and had been abducted by someone or a group of nefarious individuals. 

The media constantly pestered them by requesting soundbites for their breaking news segments on child abduction and human trafficking. 

The media had warned the public that members of a human trafficking group were possibly present in Ebony Lake, and that this group was potentially connected to the poppers drug trade. Duncan was convinced they were.  

Phoebe blamed herself. She had been too controlling. She didn’t want to admit that Duncan had been right. She thought she was doing what she was supposed to be doing as a parent. She wanted to push her child to achieve the greatest things he could ever achieve. She wanted him to win at the game of life, where many had faltered and lost. She just wanted Charlie to be happy and she believed she knew how to achieve that for him. 

She always told herself that if she had another chance, she’d do it right. She’d do everything correctly. She’d do things differently. As fate would have it, Phoebe got her second chance. Three years after he had been missing, Charlie miraculously came back. She couldn’t believe it, no one could. After so long they had feared the absolute worst, but there he was in flesh and blood. Phoebe’s beloved boy. In many ways, she had reached levels of happiness and relief that exceeded anything she had ever felt in her life. 

But Charlie wasn’t the same when he came back. She wasn’t sure if he would ever be the same again and that was terrifying. 

Elsewhere, at some point during the three years he was gone, Charlie was cold, alone and in chains. 

Stay out of the way, or burn like the rest. A voice rang out.

CHAPTER 1

PHOEBE

PRESENT DAY (2020)

Charlie loved playing the flute.

“Can you hear the music?” Charlie had asked while reading his sheet music for his upcoming band concert. The Clown Portrait was the piece. He followed in my footsteps and played the flute. I played in the jazz ensemble in high school. I was my father’s protégé and I was keen on continuing the family’s tradition and legacy. Charlie wasn’t interested in any of that. 

I was in bed in my dark and dim bedroom while drinking a glass of wine. I stared at the paved white ceiling while I wrapped myself in my blue blanket, the one that reminded me of Charlie, and reminisced about my boy. He used to snuggle in between us when he was younger and when he’d get scared. He was afraid of the monsters beneath his bed. 

I tried my best to contain the lid on a growing teenage boy, and while Charlie was a smart, sociable kid, I pushed him too hard. I didn’t allow him to be, and that’s where all the trouble started. 

The night they took my son had been the worst night of my entire life. It had been raining hard that day. All the inner pain and torment I felt had poured down from the sky in a steady volley. I hated rainy days after that. The echoes of voice rattled my ears with every raindrop that hit the ground. I tried to drown it out as best I could. I often failed. 

All I heard was his voice, calling out for me, for help, for someone to comfort him, wherever he was. 

Do you hear the music? 

That’s what my father always told me. He wanted me to listen to the music in my head before I played it. He wanted me to feel it, to live it. He believed that music was a gift that had been bestowed upon mankind, a gift that transcended space, time, and the universe at large. 

I learned how to hear the music after a while, but everything changed when Charlie was ripped away by a strange, sinister force. Duncan believed that it had been an act of pure evil. Something that had not been done by a singular man or woman, but by a group of like-minded evildoers set out on a common goal, whatever that may have been. I wasn’t sure if that was the case, but I honestly didn’t know what to believe. I didn’t understand why Charlie had been abducted in the first place. I just wanted him back home. 

I began to hear Charlie’s voice every night because he called out to me. I had failed as a mother when my son needed me most. I utterly failed and I had no way of rectifying what I had done. I fondly remembered his kind features. He had bushy eyebrows, warm hazel eyes and wavy dark brown hair. I used to run my fingers through it, it was as soft as a satin blanket. I’d move the heavens to do that again. 

He looked very much like his mother. I was a slightly above-weight woman with mocha brown skin and curly dark-brown hair. There was a difference though: I had large dark circles that surrounded my haunted eyes. They were filled with misery, anguish and regret during the three years Charlie had been gone. 

The day that life without Charlie had become the norm, was the day a piece of my soul had died. A thick cloud of melancholy surrounded my marriage with Duncan. As much as we tried to act normal, we both secretly knew that that could never be the case. Things were so much different without him. I felt like a phony for trying to move on—I felt like I wasn’t allowed to—I felt like I was betraying his memory. 

I worked at the music conservatory part-time at Ebony Lake Academy. Duncan was a history teacher there and coached basketball with Sullivan, his older brother. I made a good living, an honest one—the only thing I held onto when Charlie went missing. Without my profession, I don’t know where I’d be. At the bottom of a river, perhaps? Peacefully buried beneath the ground, maybe? 

The school was underfunded—fading walls, aging lockers, dimmed light fixtures, archaic classroom boards and desks, amongst other things. It wasn’t the greatest environment to be stuck in, but the children needed an education or in many cases, a distraction, and I was there to provide that. 

The band room wasn’t too bad, it was large, spacious, and acoustically accommodating with carpeted floors, and soundproof padding embedded into the walls. A central area that had five levels of floors held rows of chairs and music stands with sheet music for the students. 

While I mustered up the courage in my office to go out there and confront my students with a brave face, they tuned their instruments and warmed up. They waited for me to come out and conduct. We were going to play Jazz Bop Melody: Something I had thrown together while I was a young woman in my 20s. I refined it over the years. 

I waltzed outside with a warm smile and stomped up to my podium. I clinked my baton against my music stand and briefly explained the music piece to the class. 

“Okay band, bass drum sets the tempo: 1-2-3-4, 1-2-3-4, 1-2-3-4. Then my flutes come in—you start it off.  After that, my saxophones join them. I will cue in the trumpets, the trombone and then the baritones. You guys come in softly. Okay, on my count: 1-2-3-4, 1-2-3-4…”

I meticulously clinked my baton against the stand to demonstrate the right tempo as they played the piece. It went rather well and they looked like they were having fun. My mission was accomplished. 

My classes flew by pretty fast and I looked forward to lunch, probably because I wanted to eat my feelings away. I ate with Duncan in a small break room that had a coffee machine and a dinky microwave. We usually snagged the wooden table that was missing one leg because no one else wanted to sit there. 

“How was class?” I asked.

“It was pretty good, same old routine,” Duncan replied. 

“You can’t wait to get on that basketball court. That’s what you count down to every day.”

“You know me well, babe. I stare at that clock like it’s wearing a pink ‘g-string’ bikini. That’s all I want. That hardwood floor is what I live for after school.”

“You always did like it hard.”

“Oh stop.”

We laughed at each other. Something we seldom did after Charlie’s disappearance. It was like we had forgotten how to be happy, or in my case, I felt that deep down I wasn’t allowed happiness. I was punishing myself for losing him, and for failing him. 

All I wanted was to hear him speak again, anything would’ve sufficed. He could’ve told me a fart joke and I would’ve been the happiest woman in the world. He could’ve farted on me and I would’ve laughed with glee. 

 I was willing to do anything, anything to get him back. Even if I had to make a pact with the devil himself, even if I had to go down into that dark underworld and face the fires of hell. 

“One of my students was gasping for air today, he plays the flute. He has hair like Charlie’s. I remember when I had to teach him breath control. He struggled for so long, but then, out of the blue, he got it. He held a note for sixteen beats. It was incredible. I was so proud of our son.”

“Sounds like you might’ve pushed him too far,” Duncan said sternly. 

It was a sore subject with him, Charlie and his music. He felt that I acted like too much of a military general when it came to Charlie’s musical performance, but I was only trying to push him to his greatest limits. 

I knew how much potential he had to be a prestigious musician. It may have been a bit uncomfortable at times, but he was a strong kid and he took on the challenge well. 

“Let’s not do this again, it’s in the past,” I snapped.

“Fine. We won’t,” he said curtly.

“Let’s get back to the hardwood. How’s the team looking this year?”

“Oh, phenomenal. Caffrey Fenix is a bonafide star. He can handle the ball under pressure, and he can shoot pull-up three-pointers with ease. He can even tear apart the defense by driving through the middle and getting to the paint. He’ll be the reason we make a deep run in the playoffs this year. We might even make it to states,” Duncan explained. 

He beamed when he talked about basketball, that’s how I loved seeing him. He couldn’t talk much about Charlie. He turned solemn and all he was able to express was melancholy when it came to him. Fond memories of our son were a limited currency with my husband. He had a hard time bonding with him while he was still with us. 

“Honey, that’s terrific. I’ll be at all the games like always.”

“What’s terrific?” A familiar voice rang out.

I turned and saw Sullivan’s rosy smile; Duncan’s gentle giant of a brother. A hefty, balding man of grayish-blonde hair with small blue eyes. He took his place beside us and plopped down his homemade grilled chicken salad. 

“You’re sticking to this diet fad, huh?” Duncan asked.

“Gotta shed the baby weight,” Sullivan replied.

“That’s not how it works,” Duncan remarked.

Sullivan playfully ruffled his hair and Duncan quickly shoved his prying hands away. No matter how old you got, siblings always acted like siblings. Roughhousing and name-calling, they still did it all, even as grown-ass men. 

“Where were you?” Duncan asked.

“Athletic director duties, little sister.”

“Go finger yourself, lard boy,” Duncan spat out.

It was always funny seeing Duncan getting his feathers ruffled because of his older brother. Sullivan loved teasing him, and Duncan took the bait. That was the only reason he continued to do it, and Duncan never realized it. It was good that they had each other growing up. Their father was never around much to display much affection. 

Hey Coach Sullivan! A few students shouted while they passed through the main office. Sullivan warmly grinned and waved. 

“What are you doing in the office? Skipping again? Get back to class or I’ll fart on you!”

They giggled and ran off. He was popular on campus. He was like that beloved uncle who gave you pizza money when your parents refused to give you a dime. He always knew how to make you laugh too, even after the tragedy he went through. 

“You’re just jealous the people love me, Dunky.”

“They were teenage girls, you pervert.”

“Jeez man, I didn’t mean it like that. If anyone’s a pervert, it’s you,” Sullivan staunchly defended himself. 

“Yeah, I don’t believe you, lard boy.”

Sullivan’s smile suddenly faded and he started picking at his food. It happened on occasion. Sully’s mind would wander and I didn’t know where he’d go. 

“You know…they uh…Carina and Carson…I’d…never mind. I shouldn’t bring them up again,” Sullivan whispered.

“It’s fine,” Duncan offered. He placed his hand on his brother’s arm and squeezed it to comfort him. 

Sully’s twin children weren’t with us anymore, and I believe he never truly recovered from that. 

“That’s okay, Sully. I talk about Charlie all the time. All we have left is our memories, we can’t let them shrivel up and die. We give them life by keeping them in mind, remembering them and talking about them.”

“I couldn’t agree more, Phoebe,” Sullivan replied. I glanced at Duncan, his eyes were downcast. He had his reasons for hating to talk about Charlie. We all dealt with grief differently, I tried not to judge him for it. 

I still had all the pictures of Charlie up on the walls of my house. Duncan had taken them down after he had been gone for three months, but I fought tooth and nail with him to put them back up. It had been the most furious argument we’ve ever had since Charlie’s disappearance. It ended with both of us in tears and each other’s arms. We were both in a lot of pain and we took it out on each other. 

I had photos of Charlie at his first band concert in the school’s auditorium and one of him in a concert hall for a music competition. I also had some family photos of us at the beach, another one while on a hike and one when we swam with dolphins along the east coast. 

I was grateful for all of it. I only wished that he’d return so we’d get to do more things together. I wanted more memories of him. I wanted to protect him—even if I had to die while doing so—if he was still alive. I didn’t like to think about that horrific possibility.

Duncan usually watched his basketball games on TV after basketball practice with the school, Ebony Lake Academy. He had his own little “man cave” space. He had his big comfy recliner and some bobbleheads of his favorite players like: Barkley, Ming, Jordan and Bird; a massive flat-screen TV with the best picture quality—he just had to see the players’ sweat. He also had his high school jersey framed on the space above the TV. It was black and white with gold stripes. He had been on one of the best teams in the school’s history—SOLACE 26.

Sullivan came over often, but he wasn’t there that day. He cheered on the Ebony Lake Lions as they took on the Brookfield Bearcats. It was a local college exhibition. 

“Foul!” 

“Take the shot! Take the shot!”

“Watch the other player!” 

“You call that a foul ref?!” Duncan yelled at the TV.

He always got amped up when he watched the games. I’d still rather hear him yell like an animal than hear his crazy rants during the annual Billingsberg Group meetings. Supposedly, they were a global group of secretly malicious political leaders, billionaires, moguls, defense experts, academics and oil executives who congregated once a year to talk about how they could continue controlling the world and the minds of people everywhere. 

I knew it was crazy talk because he just needed something—a reason to believe why his son had been mysteriously taken with no trace. He theorized that this group dabbled in human trafficking, especially children. A horrific accusation, and a bold one at that, considering there was no real evidence. That had been the hardest part to accept. No one saw anything and there wasn’t a shred of proof left behind. It was madness. I couldn’t bring this up to him or else I’d be considered part of the problem. So I let it be. 

To keep myself busy I usually worked on sheet music. I had a quaint little room with a square window and a shiny wooden floor. I had a sweeping view of the neighborhood from my window. My dark wood desk held my metronome and my tuner, while my music stand stood positioned in the corner with all of my sheet music and my music theory books. It was my little whimsical world of quarter notes and major scales. 

I felt connected to my son that way. My mind often wandered while I worked on music. I wondered why he had run away or if I had been too controlling. My mother had been so controlling and so stringent with me. It was the only way of parenting I knew—that’s what I had experienced firsthand. 

I didn’t realize it had such a negative effect in my life, especially when it came to raising Charlie. I found myself turning into my mother when I scolded him—it was like she was still a part of my soul. It irked me like a cheese grater cutting into my throat.  

“Hey,” Duncan called out.

He jolted me out of my long train of thought. I turned and saw him leaning against the opened door. I took out my case from underneath my chair and carefully took out my flute. I attached the mouthpiece. 

“Game’s over?”

“Yup, Ebony Lake won. Thank you, divine creator of the cosmos.”

“You’re silly,” I remarked.

“Working on anything new?” he asked.

“Not at the moment. I’m just…I don’t know. It’s been hard for me to maintain focus lately,” I sighed. Charlie’s voice was growing stronger in my head. Sometimes it felt like he was calling out to me to save him from whatever monster he was chained up to. 

“It weighs on me too,” Duncan said while he rubbed his face. I saw the sheer exhaustion evaporating off his creased forehead. Many sleepless nights did that to a person. 

“Can I ask you a question about Charlie? I don’t want you to get upset. So, just tell me if I can,” I asked.

“Of course, honey,” he said lovingly. I could tell he was squirming, but I needed to know what he thought. He was my husband after all.

“Do you think I was too controlling with him?” I asked.

Duncan stayed quiet and sat down beside me. He looked at me thoughtfully for a moment. I could tell he was trying to form the correct words in his head before talking to me. 

“Look, I don’t blame you for what happened, but sometimes you pushed him to do things he didn’t want to do. He hated those music lessons after a while, Phoebs. He hated it,” Duncan revealed. 

“No, it can’t be. He loved the flute, didn’t he? He loved playing.”

A sharp pain traveled from my stomach to my neck. My body created that effect when I refused to believe something was true. 

“That’s really how you remember it?”

I trusted in my memories and what my son enjoyed doing. It was all I had left and I couldn’t believe anything to the contrary. 

“I know my son and he did enjoy it. If he played basketball in school, you would’ve pushed him too, perhaps even harder. You and Sullivan would’ve rained down on him,” I stated.

He was our only son, we would’ve pushed him to his limits. We would’ve wanted him to excel at anything he did. 

“I would, not Sully. Sully’s too nice.”

“Be that as it may, what’s the difference? We both want him to be great. Right?”

“Of course. I guess we’ll never know if that’s the correct choice though, huh?” Duncan asked, hiding his pain with a forced smile.

I didn’t want to admit that he had a point. I reorganized my sheet music on my stand. 

“He could still be out there. Charlie could still be alive,” I stressed.

Duncan immediately shot up and shook his head, his cheeks flushed. He was boiling red. 

“Don’t you dare start on that! Don’t you dare, Phoebe! It’s been three years! He’s gone! We need to accept that so we can finally move on with our lives. If we don’t, we’ll always be known as those parents who lost their only child for the rest of our lives.”

Duncan’s eyes had darkened, and I knew that behind those eyes was utter misery. He didn’t want to forget our son, he just didn’t want to feel the pain anymore. 

“Why do you act like that? We can’t act like he never existed. I’m sorry, but it’s not happening. I love that boy more than all the happy memories I’ve ever had combined,” I shot back. 

I placed my flute aside and stood up. I tried to look him in the eye. He didn’t want to meet my gaze. 

“I do too,” Duncan mumbled.

“Then why, honey?” I asked softly.

“I need to get him out of my head because if I don’t, I’ll fucking spiral—I’ll spiral into a deep, dark cave of nothingness, Phoebe. I’ll stay in bed all day, I won’t eat, I won’t sleep. I’ll just lie awake with a picture of his innocent face blazed into my eyelids.” He tried to choke back his tears, but he was failing. 

“Something evil took our son, and I don’t think we’ll ever see him again. Whoever took away Sully’s children, took Charlie too.”

I forced him into my arms and hugged him tight. He quietly sobbed into my shoulder.

CHAPTER 2

PHOEBE

Can you hear the music, Mom? Can you?

I suddenly awoke in the middle of the night. It was raining hard. It always became worse when it was raining, Charlie’s voice echoed inside my head like he was hidden between my eardrums. 

I put on my slippers and quietly slid away to my music study. I tried to work on something new but I couldn’t. I felt mentally constipated. I threw down my pen in frustration. I held my face in my hands with my eyes closed while loops of hair dangled in front of me. 

The pitter-patter that hit the concrete outside soon stopped and his voice became quieter. I forced myself to rise to my feet and inhaled deeply. I noisily exhaled through my mouth and stared outside my square window. A dark van turned the corner and came into view on my dimly lit street corner. I left my study and softly exited the house. I began walking to tire myself out, enough to fall back asleep at home—that became my routine after Charlie disappeared. 

I followed the van as it raced down the street. In the distance, there was a lone streetlamp that illuminated the local park in my neighborhood: Ebony Pond Park. The van slowed down a bit as it passed the park, then quickly sped off out of view. 

Well, that was odd as hell. 

I continued walking and saw a silhouette of a small figure in the park. It only had two swing sets, a single slide and some monkey bars. A person was gently swinging on the swing set. My heart skipped a beat because I thought about the possibility of it being Charlie, but I quickly realized it was a little girl. It was Kaya Ramos, Lucia Aguilar’s daughter, one of my neighbors. 

Charlie had been good friends with her. They used to play at school. I used to think that Charlie had a crush on her. She was 13 years old, the same age Charlie would’ve been. I jogged to her and waved. She barely noticed me. She was wearing a bright pink scarf. 

“Hello. Aren’t you Kaya?” I asked as sweetly as possible. I didn’t want her to think I was some freak of the night, but it might’ve been too late for that. 

“Yeah.”

She looked just like her mother. She was thin, with long dark hair and big brown eyes. They were of Venezuelan descent. Lucia had a blade-shaped scar on her arm though, Kaya didn’t. I never asked Lucia about it. I figured it was a touchy subject. She had been through a lot with Jeffrey, her ex-lover. 

“What are you doing by yourself at this hour? Are you okay?”

“I like to be alone, sometimes,” she replied.

“How come?”

“I don’t like it when my dad fights with my mom. There’s a lot of yelling and arguing. It makes me nervous.”

The dad was Jeffrey Ramos. He was a real asshole and a known popper-head. He used to hit Lucia because he was a coward. I privately celebrated when she threw him out of her house.

“Oh, I’m sorry sweetie. I know how that is, it can be rough.”

“My mom says that he talks too much shit. I guess that’s true.” Kaya shrugged. 

Jeffrey was the type of idiot who ran his mouth without knowing when to shut it. 

“I’m shocked he’s still allowed in her house.”

“He’s not, but he gives my mom money sometimes. She needs it.”

Must be desperate times if she’s accepting money from that ballsack. 

I nodded in understanding. Poor girl, I felt bad for her—she was living with a single parent. I knew Lucia was trying her best, but it was difficult juggling different jobs while raising a teenage daughter. 

“Does your mom know you’re out here?” I asked.

“Nah, I go back before she notices. She’s at work right now. She’s working overnight.”

That was the struggle of not having help. A child being alone without supervision was a dangerous thing. The potential of being susceptible to outside influences and substances was very high. 

“This can be dangerous, Kaya. You’re outside alone in the middle of the night. What about any popperheads that could stumble in around here?” I warned.

She had no idea what the consequences of her actions could bring. She was too young to understand. She didn’t take heed after Charlie’s disappearance. 

“I know, I’m careful.”

How careful can you be at your age?

“You know what happened to Charlie, right? You remember?”

“Yeah, it was so sad. I miss him. He was kind to me. He was like my only friend,” Kaya answered.

I sighed and hung my shoulders, I gave her a friendly grin. Things like that warmed my heart. It made me so happy that Charlie had been kind to his friend. I had no worries about that from him. He knew how to treat a lady with respect. Even if he threw temper tantrums with me. 

“Why don’t I keep you company until you have to leave? I can’t sleep either.”

“Oh, why?” She asked. 

“My son’s voice. It wakes me up. Sometimes…I feel him out there. Somewhere.”

I have a feeling he’s still alive.

CHAPTER 3

PHOEBE

Day after day I went through the motions: I taught music; I graded the students’ performances; I had lunch with Duncan and Sully; and I played my flute all by my lonesome—often wiping the tears that fell onto the keys from my grieving face.

That day shouldn’t have been any different, I wasn’t expecting it to be. I was driving home from the school as usual. My mind was adrift and lost in a dozen half-baked thoughts. I didn’t even notice him when I parked my mini-van—it was like he had been invisible—or perhaps I thought I saw a ghost. 

When I got out of my car and saw him, I froze. My ears began to ring, my head became hot and heavy and my stomach tied itself into a knot. I blinked, then blinked again, just to ensure I wasn’t seeing things. I just stood there, watching, waiting for the boy to do something. I already knew who it was, but I needed a sign of life. I needed to know I wasn’t going crazy. I needed to know that I wasn’t dreaming. 

“Mom?” He muttered. 

My boy had grown. He had longer hair, a semblance of a mustache, he was taller, and his eyes looked gloomier—like he had been through the most traumatic experience of his life. My heart shattered just thinking about what could’ve possibly happened to him during his three-year-long absence. 

It felt like something had finally exploded out of my chest when he spoke. Something that had been building since the first night he was gone. My eyes welled up with so many tears my vision blurred—I couldn’t take it. I collapsed to the ground sobbing so hard that my throat tightened, constricting my breathing.  

My chest rhythmically heaved with each gasping breath. I tried to control myself—I was overwhelmed by a gamut of raw emotions: joy, fear, anxiety, anguish—I just couldn’t believe he had returned. 

I slowly walked over to him, my limbs shaking. I embraced him so tightly I began to squeeze his lungs. I backed off a bit. The moment felt so out of place like it was something that should’ve never happened. He was there in flesh and blood—Charlie had returned. 

“It’s a miracle, you’re back,” I gasped. 

“Yeah,” Charlie croaked. 

Duncan parked in the driveway, not long after, and shot out of his car like a racing bullet. He couldn’t believe it—he couldn’t believe what he was seeing. 

“Oh my god. Oh my god! Charlie! Charlie!” Duncan shouted at the top of his lungs. He tackled and embraced both of us, not wanting to let go. There were so many questions—too many questions—I didn’t want to overwhelm him. Before the neighbors came outside, we quickly brought him inside and sat him down. I didn’t want to cause a ruckus and scare the poor kid. There were so many things I needed to say, but I chose to wait—I chose to take it easy with him. 

I offered him something to eat, but he refused—he decided to take a long warm shower instead. 

While he was in there, Duncan and I had to talk about what to do next. We were more than elated that Charlie had returned to us, but he did seem different. That was to be expected. We had no idea what the poor kid had gone through in the three years he was gone—not to mention he was just there waiting at our front door. He even seemed well-fed and well-groomed. He wasn’t bony or disheveled. It was the strangest thing. It was like someone had been taking care of him, and I didn’t understand why. 

We sat on our leather couch in the living room in anticipation. There was a feeling of anxiousness in the air. I wasn’t quite sure what to think. It was an unprecedented situation. 

“Won’t be long before the neighborhood knows, and everyone else,” Duncan remarked.

“It’s an insane story. He was missing for three years and all of a sudden he’s back. I wonder if any of the neighbors saw him,” I said.

“If they did, they probably thought it was a ghost. Hell, I thought he was a damn ghost. I couldn’t believe my eyes.”

Part of me still couldn’t believe he had returned in one piece. Like someone or something was playing a cruel trick on us. 

“The question is: ‘Why did they bring him back?’ Of course I’m grateful, I thank all the lords in the heavens and the divine creators of the universe because he’s back home, but what the hell happened to our son?” I asked.

“We’ll have to ask him,” Duncan replied.

“He seemed quiet, distant. He had dark circles around his eyes like he hadn’t been sleeping. I can’t blame him. Poor kid was probably sleeping in a barrel. Jesus, I don’t even want to think about it.”

I didn’t know where Charlie had been, but I wasn’t sure I ever wanted to know. I couldn’t bear the thought of him being imprisoned for a whole three years. A thought did cross my mind: Whoever took him needed to pay for what they had done. Justice needed to be served. 

“Well, he’s here now. Let’s just focus on trying to move on, trying to be normal again.”

“We’re going to have to call the police, right? He has to speak to some kind of local authority figure. There might be other kids involved,” I stated.

“Maybe in a few hours—let him relax for a minute—before the whole world wants to know what happened to Charlie Solace,” Duncan suggested. 

After he showered, he stayed quiet for a good while. We didn’t ask him about his abduction and he didn’t volunteer any information. The only thing he seemed to enjoy doing was watching the local college basketball game on TV with Duncan. I studied him from the kitchen while he watched the game with his dad in the living room.

His eyes seemed dead—with no life in them—it worried me greatly and it churned my stomach. 

This is all my fault, how do I fix this? My only son is back and I don’t even know how to help him.

Charlie knew the police were coming and shrugged when we told him he would have to speak with them. When they arrived, the red and blue sirens shined through the front windows of the house. As expected, several white vans with crews from the local news stations also arrived.

They formed an angry mob outside and clamored to get through, disrespectfully shouting their obscene questions at Charlie. 

“Charlie Solace, is it true you were a victim of human trafficking?!”

“How did you escape your captors?!”

“Were you abused by an organized group of foreign criminals?!”

“Why did they let you go?! Did you make a deal with them?!”

“Were there other children with you?!”

It got so hectic that more police had to arrive to form a perimeter with yellow tape, barring entry near our home and our neighborhood. We allowed two detectives inside to speak with Charlie, but things didn’t go as planned. 

He told them that he was fine, he didn’t remember who took him, and that he had no other information. The detectives were kind enough to understand. They told him to call them when he was ready. Charlie didn’t pay much mind to that though—it was like he was blocking out the entire three years he was gone from his memory. That only worried me more. He didn’t want to remember, but who the hell could blame him? He was only 13 years old. 

When the detectives left, a few policemen stood by until the news crews finally left. When the basketball game was over, Charlie went to sleep by himself in his room without saying a word. We peeked in to say that we loved him, but he remained silent. 

We worriedly stared at each other in the hallway adjacent to our bedrooms. 

“Does he hate us?” Duncan asked quietly. 

“I don’t know, maybe. He probably feels some resentment.”

It was only natural. He probably felt we had failed to protect him. The thought of that ripped my heart straight out of my chest. 

“Someone evil took him, Phoebs. It had to be some human trafficking group or something. What did they do to our son?” Duncan asked. He hung his head and with anguish strewn across his face, glared at the floor. 

“I know a specialist who works in abduction-related traumas. She might be able to help, her name’s Farrah Starbrook.”

“Okay, let’s try that. Maybe he’ll talk to her, and tell her something he won’t tell us.”

“I’ll take him to see his pediatrician to get a general check-up first. We have to make sure he’s physically okay.”

We were in a private classroom that had hues of blue, it was meant to exude calm. There was a matted floor with buckets of harmless toys and styrofoam blocks. A sensory area was situated in the corner with a few throw pillows and a curtain for privacy. There was a whiteboard with a host of cartoony animals holding up signs for the letters of the alphabet. It was a safe place and I hoped Charlie felt that too. 

Farrah, Charlie and I all sat around on a circular couch. Farrah wanted to conduct a short interview while I was present. 

“Hi Charlie, my name is Farrah Starbrook. I’m a teacher and I specialize in therapy-related activities for children. It’s very nice to meet you,” Farrah said.

“Hi,” Charlie muttered, avoiding her gaze. Farrah maintained her smile and continued. 

“How are you, Charlie?”

He shrugged, not seeming to care. However, I wasn’t sure if it was because he didn’t care to answer her or if he didn’t care how he was doing. 

“How has it been since you’ve returned home to your parents? You must be happy about that, right?” 

“I guess,” Charlie answered with zero enthusiasm in his voice. It was extremely disheartening. I wanted to interject but Farrah had instructed me to remain quiet for the duration of the interview. It was for the best. 

“Why did you refuse to speak with the police? You didn’t want to tell them about what had happened to you?”

Charlie shrugged again, not saying a single word. 

“Charlie, did anyone hurt you, in any way, while you were gone?” 

Charlie shook his head “no”. I was a bit awestruck by that answer, but thoroughly relieved nonetheless. At least I had a possible confirmation that he hadn’t been in any pain. I only hoped he wasn’t lying to avoid speaking about it, which could’ve been the case. 

“Did anyone threaten you to stay silent?” 

Charlie blankly stared at Farrah for several seconds before slowly shaking his head. They continued like that for the rest of the questions. Charlie shrugged, shook his head or remained quiet while staring at the floor. Something had changed within my boy and I didn’t know what it was. It clawed at me and drew blood from within.

Farrah took me aside to speak with me privately. Charlie remained quiet and didn’t do anything. I remember when he used to squirm in his chair in class, he’d always get in trouble for talking out of turn. The teachers loved him but only wished he’d pay a bit more attention in class. He was a good kid and he was meant for great things—that’s what all parents should think of their children. 

At that moment, Charlie would’ve started playing around in the classroom; he would’ve tossed around the blocks; he would’ve inspected the cartoony animals; and he would’ve messed around with the sensory area. He did none of that that day. Charlie had returned, but he wasn’t the same boy who had been taken. 

He was like a ghost, and it shook me to my core. 

“Hey, I can see the worry on your face, but it’s okay. It’s perfectly normal for him to be non-verbal after his abduction. The circumstances were surely traumatic and extremely frightening for a young boy. He was 10 years old when he was taken and now he’s 13. That’s three years of “who-knows-what.” The point is, he’s here now and he’s alive. He doesn’t seem hurt either. We need to cling to the positives for now,” Farrah explained. 

“I took him to his pediatrician and surprisingly, he’s healthy. He’s at a good weight, his bones are strong and the bloodwork came back fine. He’s deprived of sleep, but other than that, we’re so blessed that he’s okay.”

“I’d just give it some time, Phoebe. Allow him to get reacquainted with his old environment because right now I’m sure he’s still in shock. He may wake up a few more days and still believe he’s in another place—wherever they may have taken him.”

“It’s insane. No one saw him show up to our house. Can you believe it? I have no idea how long he was waiting for us to come home. The whole neighborhood was completely shocked, no one saw a car or anything. The police think the perpetrators dropped him off during working hours when all the kids were at school, and in that case, no one was around.”

“I’m guessing you have no idea why he was let go, right?”

“I don’t know, and I’m not sure if I even want to know,” I answered truthfully.

“That’s good. I’d just focus on his return and making it as comfortable as possible for him. You got your son back, not many people can say the same,” Farrah said grimly. She was right. I was one of the lucky few. 

As I drove Charlie back home, he remained quiet, no one knew what was going on in that head of his. 

In the past, he’d usually turn up the car radio or connect his phone to the audio system. He’d blast the music just to annoy me and I used to get so irritated. I’d cry tears of joy if he did that again. I’d roll down the windows, and I’d sing along with him. I’d do anything to see him act like his old self again. I’d do whatever it took to get my old son back. 

When we arrived home, Duncan and I sat with him in his bedroom. He sat at the edge of his bed holding a plushie toy. He pretended to inspect it. And we sat on his old furnished chest, facing him.

It was like we were speaking with a foreigner. He didn’t seem to regard us as his parents anymore. He glared at us like we were strangers. The looks he’d give me would send chills down my spine. I imagined his eyes blazoned with fire, blaming me for everything he had gone through, and I accepted that blame. 

“What happened to you, Charlie?” I asked intently.

He said nothing and stared at the wall.

“Hey buddy, you don’t want to talk about it?” Duncan asked.

Charlie shrugged.

“That’s okay, baby. You don’t have to talk about it.” I assured him. 

Charlie let go of the giraffe plushie. He crossed his arms and sighed. 

“Okay,” he muttered.

“Can I hear your voice again? Please? We’ve missed you so much, son. We love you.” I pleaded.

Charlie glanced at me, with nothing but hatred in his eyes. That stung. 

“I hate you, mom,” he snapped.

“I’m sorry, son. I’m so sorry,” I whispered.

It felt like being impaled by a hundred poison-tipped spears all at once, his words cut through me like a sharpened sword, slicing my torso in half, while all of my blood poured out of me like a spout. 

“C’mon son, we’re trying to help you. We’re so happy you’re back. We just want to help.” Duncan urged him. 

“Sorry,” Charlie offered.

We both reached in to hug him tight, but he leaned away from us. He laid down on his bed and rejected us.

“I’m going to sleep,” Charlie informed us. 

“Okay son, we love you. Have a good night,” I said as sweetly as possible. 

We left his room and walked down to the kitchen. Duncan swung open the refrigerator and pulled out a beer.

“Make that two,” I blurted out.

He passed me one and took one out for himself.

“I need one of these after that,” Duncan commented.

“I think he hates us,” I whispered. 

“The poor kid is traumatized. We can’t put him at fault and we can’t be angry with him. We have to give him time.”

“That’s what Farrah said, and to be honest with you—I’m having a lot of trouble with that. He’s changed, Duncan. I don’t know if he’ll revert to his old self. I’m afraid,” I admitted. 

“Me too, honey. But, what else can we do? We can’t make him talk. He’ll just resent us even more if we try.”

“You’re right. We should also let him take the rest of the school year off. Maybe by summer, he’ll feel better about us and we can take a nice vacation. He always loves the theme parks when we go. That’d be nice.”

“Good idea, we have to let him take it easy—who knows what those monsters did to him.”

The various possibilities that went through my mind were cruel and malicious. I couldn’t stomach it, I had to shut down those thoughts. 

“I don’t like to think about it.”

Duncan took a long sip and placed his beer on the counter. He rubbed his chin and stared at the ceiling. 

He opened his mouth to speak: “Do you think…maybe he was touched?”

I cringed hard and shook my head.

“No, I don’t—no, Duncan. Don’t even go there, please.”

“I know honey. Trust me, it incinerates my blood just considering the possibility. It makes me want to pull out a machine gun, find all the local pedophiles in the area, and let it fucking rip,” he confessed. 

“I’d help you.”

If a pedophile had abducted Charlie, and I found out…there wouldn't be a single place on the planet where that sicko could hide. 

“Fucking bastards, all of ‘em.”

“He or they are still out there, Duncan. I wonder what the hell their plan is. They’ve just let him go? Why? After three years? It’s insane. Don’t get me wrong, Charlie coming back was the second happiest day of my life—the first was when he was born.”

“I better be third.”

“You are my little tinfoil hat conspiracy theorist.”

Duncan pointed at me. He did that when he was about to defend himself. 

“Hey, you can’t deny that something is amiss in Ebony Lake. Something evil took our son. Sully was right all those years ago. Something fucked up is going on in this town and everyone has the wool over their eyes.”

Someone lightly knocked on the front door. Duncan went over to open it. It was Sullivan, he usually came by in the evenings. He hadn’t seen Charlie yet. 

“It’s a miracle, huh? Wow,” Sullivan said cheerfully.

“It is, I can’t believe he’s back,” I replied.

“I can’t believe they just dropped him off like that. Frickin’ bizarre,” Sullivan remarked. 

“He won’t say who did it either,” I said.

“Is he still under lock and key?” Sullivan asked.

“I think he’ll want to see you, but I warn you, he’s been very unresponsive,” Duncan told him.

“Well, he was gone for three years. I understand.”

Duncan went over to open Charlie’s door, but it was locked. 

“I’m sleeping!” Charlie shouted. 

“Okay son, sorry.” 

Duncan came back and shrugged at his brother.

“That’s okay, he needs time. He must feel overwhelmed. I remember when I lost my kids. I needed time too. I clammed up for a good few months and didn’t say a word to anyone,” Sullivan reminded us. 

“I remember,” Duncan said—he affectionately placed his hand on his shoulder.

“He spoke to a specialist who works with traumatized children. She said the same thing. He didn’t give her any details on what happened and he didn’t want to talk to the police either. He must be afraid to talk,” I explained. 

“He must’ve been threatened,” Duncan added. 

“Poor kid’s been through the wringer, huh?” Sullivan asked.

He went over to the fridge and pulled out a beer. Duncan motioned for him to pass another and Sully obliged. 

“We hope not, for his sake,” Duncan answered. 

We all heard a noise coming from outside. It sounded like a female voice. Then it turned into incoherent shouting and shrieking. I busted out of the door like a cannonball and scanned ahead. It was Lucia, she was at Ebony Pond Park. Where Kaya and I had spoken in the middle of the night. She looked very upset. 

“Stay here! Lucia doesn’t look good.”

“I’m coming with you, Sully stay here. Make sure Charlie’s okay.”

“You got it,” Sully quickly replied.

We swiftly walked to where Lucia was. As we got closer I realized she was wailing. She was highly distressed and her eyes were red and puffy. Clear blobs of snot were dripping out of her nose as tears streamed down her flushed cheeks. 

“Kaya! Kaya, where are you?!” Lucia shrieked at the top of her lungs. It sounded like a prehistoric bird was screeching through the night sky shattering the calm. 

“Lucia! What’s wrong? What happened?” I asked firmly.

“They took her, they…no, no, no, no. Kaya! Kaya! Someone took her. Oh my god, oh my god.” Lucia collapsed to the ground and started taking in sharp, panicky breaths. I knelt beside her to comfort her as best I could.

“When did they take her?”

“I don’t know. When she was walking home from school. She doesn’t answer her phone and I can’t see her location. It’s completely off,” Lucia explained.

“Do you think she was abducted?” Duncan asked.

Lucia glared at him with fiery eyes, her face twisted with rage. 

“Don’t say that—don’t freaking tell me that!” 

Duncan threw up his hands in protest and pursed his lips. He knew she was in a state of high emotional distress. She was volatile and she had every right to be. She was a mother and her child was missing. I knew exactly what she was going through. I had lived through it myself.

“I’m sure she’s fine. It’s going to be okay, Lucia. We just need to keep cool,” I said softly.

“Cops have been searching. They haven’t found anything, it’s ridiculous. I bet it was one of those popperheads. They couldn’t find hay in a goddamn haystack,” Lucia hissed.

“Do you have any idea where she might’ve gone? A friend’s house? Anything like that?” I asked.

“She didn’t have friends. The only friend she had was Charlie before he went missing. Now that he’s back, she’s the one who goes missing. What the hell is going on?” Lucia asked aloud. 

As soon as she said that, it dawned on me. She was right—Charlie had returned and Kaya had been taken in his place—Lucia was right. What the hell was going on? 

“I saw her out of the house in the middle of the night, just recently. I kept her company.”

She turned and pointed at me in an accusatory manner. It did sound strange the way I had said it, but it was the truth and I had done nothing to her daughter. 

“What the hell? Seriously Phoebe? Why didn’t you tell me anything?”

I took a deep breath and tried not to let Lucia’s anger get to me. 

“I’m sorry, but she made it seem like she always did that—I guess I thought you knew— she told me she leaves when you fight with Jeffrey Ramos.”

I should’ve asked more questions; I should’ve made her go home. 

“Oh, Jesus Christ. I’m an idiot—a complete idiot.” Lucia balled her hands into fists. 

I knew exactly how she felt. Duncan gave me a worried look as the swing sets creaked loudly. They were being blown by the wind—it was so eerie—no one was around and it was too quiet. Kaya’s disappearance already rang heavy in the air. 

“You’re not, Lucia. Don’t beat yourself up. Kaya needs you now.”

“What is this? Charlie returns after three years then Kaya goes missing. She was probably abducted by the same people. What the hell is going on here? Are you involved?” Lucia asked pointedly. 

“Of course not,” Duncan interjected.

“I wasn’t asking you,” Lucia shot back.

I took a few steps back and tried to look Lucia in the eye. 

“Hey, listen, I had nothing to do with this. I have no reason to take your daughter, none at all,” I said defensively. 

“Unless it was a swap. You get your son back, but you have to give my daughter up in return,” Lucia theorized. 

“No, I had no contact with anyone. Believe me, after what I went through, I’d never allow another parent to go through that—it’s the worst form of pain imaginable,” I confessed.

Lucia nodded. She knew that I was right. She remained on the ground until she allowed me to help her up. 

“Who is taking our children? Popperheads? Human traffickers? What the hell is going on?!” Lucia asked aloud.

“I don’t know, but they need to pay for what they’ve done. Charlie isn’t the same kid who left all those years ago, and we need to find Kaya before it’s too late.”

CHAPTER 4

PHOEBE

It was my duty to find the person responsible for abducting my son. I needed to know why he was taken. I needed to know what was done to him. Once and for all, I needed to find the truth.

I went to Charlie’s room. He was wide awake. He stared at the ceiling with a lifeless look in his eyes while holding his elephant plushie. I gently sat at the edge of his bed. 

“Hey, buddy. I just wanted to say that I love you. My life is whole again now that you’re back. I’m going to find the person who abducted you. They’re going to pay for what they’ve done. I promise you, son—I promise you.”

Charlie glanced at me and nodded. He seemed to approve of my promise. I tried to hug him, and I tried to kiss him on his forehead, but he didn’t let me. He pushed me away and turned his back to me. I had to choke back a sob. I quickly left the room—I couldn’t stay in there any longer. 

Duncan and Sullivan were waiting in the living room. Sullivan loved hanging out with us. The poor guy had been through a lot. He lived in a pretty dinky house in some off-road area near a swamp. It was the only thing he could afford by himself. He was a recovering addict. 

Duncan had a beer while Sullivan drank an iced coffee. Sully was reading the local newspaper. I didn’t even know they still had those. Sully’s drink reminded me of that song he loved to listen to: Angel of Ice—a song made to be played on the flute. It was a very difficult one to learn—I tried to teach Charlie—but he had too much trouble with it. 

“I don’t get why you want to leave now. Charlie just came back and he needs his mother,” Duncan argued.

I’d told him I needed to figure out the mystery behind Charlie’s disappearance. I couldn’t rest or sleep until I knew everything I needed to know—he wasn’t happy about that. 

“I don’t want to leave—but what other choice do I have? I have to find out the truth. I have to find out who took him and why. I have to redeem myself, honey. It’s my fault he went missing in the first place—and I take full responsibility for that,” I declared.

Duncan sighed and rubbed his forehead. He knew I was right. I had argued with Charlie that night and because of that—he ran away—that led to him being taken, and that was my cross to bear. 

“Don’t be too hard on yourself,” Sullivan said softly. He patted me on the back. I gave him a melancholic smile. He was gentle with people after everything that had happened to him. The poor man had lost his whole family in an instant. How do you come back from that? 

“You’re going to go down a dark web of evil and cruelty. You’re going to get involved with something that you shouldn’t be involved with. Who knows what dangerous men are involved with this stuff?” Duncan warned. He wasn’t wrong, but I didn’t care. I couldn’t live knowing I could’ve done something to root these people out. Whether it was one individual or several, something needed to be done before another child went missing. 

“Maybe that’s the point, Duncan. Charlie was taken and then Kaya was taken too. Who’s next? Charlie could still be in danger, his return could be a ploy. Of what?—I don’t know—but we have to consider the possibility.”

Sully folded the newspaper and placed it beside him on the coffee table. He began to listen intently. Duncan was hunched over on the couch twiddling his thumbs. He was more of a worrywart while Sully was laid back. Duncan just worried more and considered all scenarios in most situations. He had a lot of things running through his mind. 

“I didn’t want to say it, but you’re right. I thought it was a ploy as well. They could be watching us right now. It fucking terrifies me,” Duncan whispered. 

The idea that sinister individuals were watching us, planning their next move against our family, horrified me. I secretly trembled with these fears permeating my mind, but I had to show I was brave. I couldn’t give Duncan any more reason to worry. Sully sucked in a deep breath and gave me a solemn look. 

“I’ve had experience with things that terrify me, Phoebe. Maybe you ought to reconsider this. You don’t know how this could end.”

“I can’t, Sully. I have to do this for my son and our family. I have to find the people responsible,” I demanded. 

Duncan stood up and paced the room. My chest began to tighten because I was afraid of making the wrong choice, but for that very reason, I felt I was making the correct one. After all, I wasn’t supposed to feel sunshine and rainbows. I was going after whoever took my son. 

“There’s a group of people in Ebony Lake who cannot be trifled with. I don’t know who they are or where they are, but Sully’s been right all along. I always thought he was crazy, but he’s not,” Duncan commented. 

Sully sternly nodded, fully agreeing with his brother. 

“There is an evil in this town. I tried to find it because I wanted to root it out, but I failed spectacularly,” Sullivan said with much pain in his voice.

“You still don’t remember, right?” I asked. He shook his head—his battle-worn face filled with regret. 

“I don’t think I ever will. After the accident, a lot of things went blurry or black in my head. I get these migraines when I wake up sometimes. It’s the drugs…I still feel the heat of everything. It’s burned into me. The only thing I remember is that it involves certain people in Ebony Lake’s community.”

Sully buried his face in his hands—he was still feeling the effect of poppers years later. 

“Billy Barnes, our neighborhood watchdog, the super-amazing-nice guy with a big smile, that’s one name—he’s suspicious,” Duncan remarked. 

“Well, we’ll see. Just because he’s too nice, doesn't mean he’s guilty. Spend time with our son, honey. He seems to like you more at the moment,” I suggested.

Duncan softly nodded. 

“I thought I’d never see the day. Duncan’s kid likes his square of a dad,” Sully quipped. Duncan suppressed a chuckle. 

“For good reason,” Duncan added. Sully had to restrain himself from making another funny comment. I saw it in his face, he had that devious smile. 

My thoughts went back to Billy Barnes. He had lived in the neighborhood forever. He was active in the homeowners’ committee for making the neighborhood safe. Duncan always felt he was a sham. 

Billy had no wife, no kids, didn’t drink, didn’t party, and spent a lot of time indoors. Duncan wasn’t wrong, it was suspicious, but I always assumed he was just an awkward man. We tended to believe the worst of people when they never behaved badly. It made it seem like they were compensating for the bad things they were doing in the dark. 

“Where you off to then?” Sullivan asked me. 

“Lucia’s house. I want to talk to her about Jeffrey Ramos, Kaya’s father. He isn’t involved in Kaya’s life, but he might be involved in her abduction.”

CHAPTER 5

PHOEBE

Ifirst met Lucia while she was outside with Kaya teaching her how to ride a bike inside the neighborhood. Kaya always wore that bright pink scarf around her neck. Funnily enough, I was also teaching Charlie how to ride near a roundabout—you know, the circular traffic intersection. We started chatting about the school and the challenges of being a mom. I thought she was fairly reserved like myself, but her demeanor changed when Jeffrey Ramos pulled up near the sidewalk we were on.

I knew that he had been a truck driver. It was rumored that he had lost his job because of his anger issues—he liked to abuse poppers while on the road. To put it simply, he wasn’t a nice man. That drug was a prevalent issue in Ebony Lake. It was a contagion that refused to go away completely, it was like a group of weeds that continued to stick out of the ground. 

He was a lanky, brown-skinned man with small dark eyes and raggedy black hair. Jeffrey’s mouth was always hanging open with a cigarette. Once he arrived, he began yelling at her and being aggressive. Lucia matched his energy. By the time I ran over to break up the conflict, Jeffrey was on the ground, being hit by Lucia with the detached mailbox. I couldn’t believe it. Lucia had ripped off her mailbox, the one on her front lawn, and had started wailing on Jeffrey with it. 

When it was over, Jeffrey retreated while cursing up a storm. After acting like nothing had happened, Lucia asked me if Charlie could play with Kaya. I didn’t want to get hit with a mailbox, so I kindly obliged—that’s when the kids became good friends. I maintained good relations with Lucia, but we didn’t have much in common—that all changed when Kaya was abducted. 

While on my way to Lucia’s house, the first thing I saw was: SPIC BITCH, spray painted in black on Lucia’s front window. My heart began to beat rapidly as I tried to keep calm.

Lucia’s door was wide open when I arrived. The lock was broken as well. I quickly entered and saw that the whole house had been trashed. Papers and documents were spread out all over the floor, a TV was smashed to bits, furniture turned upside down and kitchen items were fished out of their drawers and tossed to the floor—it was madness. It looked like someone had bulldozed through the entire house. Lucia was inside, organizing and cleaning the floor. I jumped in to help her. 

“Jesus, are you okay?”

I started organizing the documents and loose pieces of paper. Lucia gave me a nonchalant look—like her house being trashed was normal. 

“Yeah, I’m fine.”

“This is obscene,” I replied. 

“So, you were serious about helping me?” Lucia asked.

“Of course I was. What happened? Who trashed the place?”

Lucia stood up and grabbed a broom. She started sweeping up the black shards of the smashed TV. 

“I have an idea. This isn’t the first time,” Lucia said angrily. 

Lucia clenched her jaw—I could tell she was trying her best not to lose her shit. I already knew who the culprit was. 

“When did he do this?” I asked.

“While I was down at the police station.”

“That’s crazy.”

“What a big waste of time that was. It was like talking to cardboard cutouts. All they did was ask me stupid questions. I think you’d agree with me, Phoebe. If you want something done right, you need to do it yourself. I won’t end up being that dumbass, fucked-up mother who lost her only child because she has to work for a living. It won’t happen, Phoebe—it will not!” Lucia stated fiercely. 

She violently threw down the broom to the floor, while clutching her face in frustration. I remained quiet for a second. I knew she needed to let it out. 

“We forget about them then. We find her ourselves. I said I’d help you and that was a promise. We’ll find Kaya,” I firmly declared. 

I got up and picked up the broom she threw down. I finished sweeping for her. She gave me a thankful grin.  

“Thank you, Phoebe. I know I can be a little loud sometimes, maybe a little pissy, but I mean well. I’m just mad at myself for losing Kaya. It should’ve never happened.”

I felt validated for everything I had felt when Charlie had disappeared. I knew I wasn’t crazy—I was only being human—I was going through the roughest period of my life. 

“I know the feeling.”

“Got anyone to call to help us clean this shit up? I’ll even pay, with the little I have left.” 

I softly patted her arm. I couldn’t let her pay for anything, not at a time like that. 

“I have someone who’ll help for free,” I replied.

It didn’t take long for Sullivan to arrive—he jumped at the chance of getting out of his house, or his swamp as he liked to say. He helped us pick up the heavy-duty stuff that had fallen to the ground. 

“You sure you don’t want me to pay you?” Lucia asked him.

“Don’t be ridiculous. Your daughter’s missing and you need to keep your money in your pocket. Don’t be so eager to dispense it. Think of me as a good Samaritan. I know what it’s like to lose a child,” Sullivan said grimly.

Lucia nodded. She knew all about Sully’s loss—everyone in Ebony Lake knew. The Great Tragedy of Sullivan’s Family. 

“I know,” Lucia said softly. 

“Thank you, Sully. You’ve always been there for us. I appreciate it.”

Sully managed to flip over a couch right side up. If I had even attempted that, I would’ve pulled a muscle in my ass. 

“Hey, anything to get out of the swampy marsh I live in. I barely got anyone around anymore. Judy, the nice lady who used to give away apple pies, moved away, and so did Carley. She’s busy making crazy faces at those grocery store books she reads. What a funny lady. I miss her.” Sullivan reminisced, as he stared at the ceiling. 

“It’s okay, I’m lonely as fuck too,” Lucia replied. 

“Well, you didn’t have to say it like that. That kind of makes me feel bad,” Sullivan laughed. 

“Sorry, didn’t mean it like that. I’m not in the best mood,” Lucia offered.

Sullivan put a smile on our faces despite everything we went through—he was good at that. He was the fun uncle and he played his role exceedingly well. Duncan was the opposite, more serious and stern, especially when it came to coaching basketball. 

“I’ve been thinking about these horrible abductions—not to be a conspiracy theorist like my log-head brother—but it makes me wonder if it was on purpose. Charlie returns all of a sudden and then they take away Kaya. It was almost like a swap. Why would they do that? What could the plan be?” Sullivan mused. 

“I’m not sure, but that’s what we’ll have to figure out. There’s something really strange going on in Ebony Lake,” I stated.

Sully was right, it did seem like a swap, but why? If Charlie was not the right fit for their plans, why keep him for three years? What were they doing with my boy?

“I think it’s a group of human abductors or something. A child abduction ring that no one knows about, something fucked up like that,” Lucia theorized. 

“It must be,” I replied.

She had a point. I began to think it could've had something to do with the popper drug epidemic in Ebony Lake. They might’ve had a connection. 

As Sullivan turned over a flipped metal box with engravings, he sifted through the spilled contents, picked up a photo and showed it to us. He then examined it closely. 

“Ebony Lake Clubhouse,” Sullivan whispered to himself. 

“That’s that old clubhouse in town, people used to use it for meetings all the time. Not anymore though. It looks old and worn down,” Lucia explained.

“You used to go there? The community center’s there,” I said.

“Nah, that dumb shit Jeffrey used to go there. He’d never tell me why.”

I didn’t know much about the clubhouse except that Billy Barnes used to hold meetings there before it was permanently closed. 

“RPL—the RPL,” Sullivan repeated. He stared at the photo closely, squinting his eyes as he examined it. It was his fragmented mind at work again. He was trying to remember, but couldn’t. 

“What is it?” I asked him.

He walked over to a stool and sat down, eyebrows raised. He continued to focus on the picture—he appeared to be in deep thought—it was clear that a lot of things were racing around that mind of his. 

“It stands for something, but I don’t remember what. It’s important. I’m sorry, my memory…I lost it. I’m sorry I can’t be of more use,” he said, in an apathetic tone. 

I couldn’t help but feel for the guy. After everything he had been through, he still tried his hardest to be helpful. 

“It’s alright, we can use that—it’s a start,” I reassured him. I picked up some photos of Lucia with Jeffrey when they were younger. They were posing in front of a gas station. 

Jeffrey was shirtless, while Lucia stuck out her tongue like a rockstar. She wore a black leather jacket with spiked black boots. I showed it to her, but she swiftly shoved it away and shook her head. She wanted no recollection of that memory anymore. Jeffrey was dead to her. 

“Your memory…it’s because of the accident right?” Lucia asked carefully. She slowly walked over to him, as he continued to peer at the photo of the clubhouse. 

“It is,” Sullivan said with a heavy sigh. He briefly shut his eyes, seemingly remembering what had happened. He quickly opened them and snapped himself out of whatever memory he was experiencing. 

Carina and Carson were his twin children. One girl, one boy. He had lost them both. 

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have asked,” Lucia said as she quietly backed away, not wanting to upset him. She came back towards me and helped me put away the photos she had into a small wooden chest that had cracked open a smidge. 

“It’s okay. What I do remember is that I was trailing these people, the RPL. That’s when Duncan called me the conspiracy nut job. Nowadays I’m past that, and I couldn’t care less to be honest with you. I just like helping people. It appears Duncan took that bug from me.”

It was true, back then Sully was the nutcase while Duncan would grow frustrated with his lunatic ramblings. After Charlie was taken, Duncan needed to pin it on someone and be angry at something. He chose an obscure “evil group” that supposedly presides over taking away children of Ebony Lake. 

“Do you think it was a great evil that took our children away?” I asked. 

“If the great evil, in this case, are humans, my answer is yes. They’ve wrecked my soul and have shattered it into a thousand tiny pieces. They’ve taken everything from me—everything. This evil can be: a pedophile, a human trafficking ring or it can be something bigger than we could’ve ever imagined,” Sullivan explained. 

Lucia gasped and shut her eyes. I draped my arm over her back to comfort her, but she shoved me off. I already knew the horrible scenarios running through her mind. 

“Sorry, I just—sorry,” Lucia muttered.

“It’s okay, don’t worry about me. I know what you’re going through.”

There was a sinister mystery involving these children and we needed to uncover it before it was too late—before Kaya would never be seen again—that would be the greatest horror of all. She was an innocent girl, she needed to be saved. 

“Do you know who’s in this RPL?” I asked.

I wondered what it stood for, but I was sure Sully didn’t remember. 

“It might be Billy Barnes, the goody-two-shoes neighbor. He used to be a part of it, maybe he still is,” Sullivan informed us. Billy wasn’t someone I expected to be a part of whatever evil had taken the children, but we couldn’t rule anyone out. Everyone was a suspect in Ebony Lake. 

“I’ll keep him in mind,” I replied.

“Jeffrey’s first, I know he trashed this place, and we need to find him,” Lucia ordered.

“I think that’s the most logical thing to do. We need to speak with him.” 

Jeffrey had the highest motive to take Kaya—either for ransom or something else. 

“He’s such an asshole, he might’ve taken her just to spite me,” Lucia hissed.

“It’s strange how he hasn’t contacted you,” I said.

“Maybe he doesn’t know somehow?” Sullivan asked aloud.

I wouldn’t put it past Jeffrey. He was probably getting drunk, high or both in a dark alley somewhere. 

“He’s a horrible father, but he has to know. The whole town knows by now,” Lucia said. 

Before I could answer, I felt a vibration on my phone and pulled it out. It was a mysterious text message from an unknown number:

“You won’t like what you find.”

“Who is this?” I replied. 

My attention was quickly diverted to crackles that sounded like thunder piercing the windows in front of the house, breaking them. Sudden, terrifying thwacks that sounded like explosives pounded the front door. We all frantically hit the ground and covered our heads. Fear rushed through my body causing me to tremble frantically. 

“Gunshots!” Sullivan shouted. 

CHAPTER 6

DUNCAN

JANUARY (2015)

My brother was losing it. He’d say otherwise, but I knew he was acting crazy. Sullivan thought there was a conspiracy in town—some human trafficking ring that wanted us all dead. He investigated for a while and didn’t tell me much about it. So, I quietly tried to figure out what he was up to. Gina, his wife, wasn’t sure what to make of it, she was a bit paranoid about the whole thing.

I tried telling him to cut that shit out, but he wouldn’t listen to me. The only place where Sully acted normally was when he was coaching the basketball team at Ebony Lake Academy. That was his element as well as mine. We had both been on Ebony Lake’s team years ago and we were the best to ever play at that school. 

An injury to my knee cut my aspirations of going pro. I settled on being a history teacher so I would have the opportunity to coach the team I had been a part of. 

Sullivan was involved with the athletics program. He was a loved member of the school and the community. I was more reserved but I still cared about our students and athletes. 

Sully loved playing Angel of Ice on the music player while we drove to school in the mornings. It was played on the flute and it drove me nuts. I had to hear the flute all the time—my wife was a prestigious flute player, and a music teacher—I could never escape that damn flute. 

“Do we have to listen to this every — single — time we drive to school together?” I asked annoyedly. 

“Yes, because it annoys you and I love doing that,” Sully cackled. I scowled at him. He knew I was extra grumpy in the mornings before I had my coffee. I was addicted to that stuff—at least I wasn’t addicted to poppers. 

“One day I’ll drive both of us into the lake—one day—you’ll see,” I promised him. Sully rolled his eyes at me. 

“Relax sweetheart, you’ll get your coffee soon. You can even touch yourself if you want to and I wouldn’t mind it,” Sullivan sneered. I gasped and told him he was a monster. He started laughing aloud at his joke—he did that often. 

“You’re a sicko.”

I couldn’t help but smile a bit. He was always the funnier one, I was a bit rougher. I blamed it on the way we were raised. Our father was always distant and cold, but he gave more affection to Sully. After all, he was the firstborn, he did everything right. My resentment towards him had grown throughout our early years because of that. However, once we reached our adolescent years, our father stopped giving us any sort of attention. He just didn’t care about us anymore. 

“Alright we made it, don’t implode,” Sullivan muttered.

We got out and strolled our way through campus. Everyone looked at him first, he was bigger and broader, and he smiled more. I didn’t think I was such a grouch after my coffee, but I looked like one. 

Sully was the cooler big brother, the one who had the sick sports car and all the ladies on his arm. I was the grumpy nerd in the corner of the cafeteria, trading fantasy cards with the other geeks. Just because I was on the basketball team didn’t make me popular. I refused to change who I was—for better or worse. 

A trio of basketball players greeted him which included our star player: Caffrey Fenix. Caffrey was of mixed descent—his father was Jamaican and his mother was from Ecuador. 

“What’s up gang?” Sullivan smiled as wide as he could. 

They only nodded at me. I was used to it.

“Get to class, kids,” I commanded.

The trio laughed at me thinking I was joking—I wasn’t. I gave them a stern look which drained the color on their faces. They quickly got the memo and went on their way. 

“Seriously?” Sullivan asked me. He fist-bumped a couple more players that crossed our path while I gave them a steady hand wave. 

“If they get too many tardies, they can’t play ball, it’s a stupid rule. I’m only looking out for them—Caffrey was there too. You don’t want him to play?” I asked.

“Of course I do. God, I hate these communists.” 

I shook my head at Sully’s comment. I had no idea what that had to do with anything. 

The next few hours were a blur. I taught six periods of history class to students who looked like they wanted to either off themselves, throw themselves off a second-story window or set themselves on fire with a kerosene-soaked rag. I couldn’t blame them, but I kept that to myself. 

I had my usual lunch with my nuisance of a brother, and my lovely wife, Phoebe. After that, it wasn’t long before Sully and I were in the high school gymnasium, the second-best part of my day. 

The gym was a massive room with twenty rows of bleachers on opposite sides. Two regulation basketball hoops with glass backboards hung from the high ceiling. The hardwood floor had regulatory basketball lines for competitive play. 

In the far corners of the gym were the physical education locker rooms and ones for the sports teams. Our sports office was situated towards the entrance off to the side, with a big window that said: “COACH’S CAVE.”

We monitored the middle school basketball team on the sidelines as they performed layup lines. Our eyes were on Caffrey Fenix. Everyone knew he was going to be a big star. He was already averaging 17 points a game in local tournaments as an 11-year-old. We were just waiting for him to be old enough to be part of the varsity team. 

“Did you know his dad was in the military?” Sullivan asked. 

“Who, Conrad? It doesn’t surprise me, he’s a great dad.”

“Yup. He was in the Marine Corps. Freaking insane. I had to squeeze that out of him. You know how private he is,” Sullivan remarked.

“Well, that explains Caffrey. He’s as disciplined and respectful as they come, unlike these other little shitheads.” 

Duncan caught a basketball that had been thrown towards his face and gently bounced it back onto the court. 

“Oh c’mon, they’re children,” Sullivan replied.

“Yeah, I know. They could be a little nicer though. Maybe, not throw toilet paper all over my desk and office chair—with shit on it,” I said sternly.

Sully stifled a laugh. “I told them to do that,” Sullivan chuckled.

 I gave him a grumpy look and shook my fist at him. Sully loved torturing me. One day I was going to give him a good sucker punch. 

“The lake that this town was named after—I’m telling you—one day, you’re going in, ” I threatened.

“No, I’m not. You love me and I love you too, grumpy.”

“Yeah, whatever,” I said under my breath. 

“Are we going to run the basic plays?” Sullivan asked. I nodded while retrieving my clipboard from the bench area. I took the cap off my marker with my teeth and started scribbling on the miniature half-court on the board—it was a dry-erase board for drawing up basketball plays. 

“Yeah, we’ll put Fenix near the free throw line and he can receive the pass. He can shoot the ball or get closer to the hoop. If the defense collapses, he can pass out to a teammate so we can get a good shot,” I explained.

Sully spat out his gum in a nearby waste basket and fist-bumped my shoulder. 

“We’ll run it in ten minutes. I’ll tell the guys.”

I finished drawing up the play on my board and tucked it under my arm. I glanced at Sully as he focused on the players. It was nerve-racking my stomach to draw up the courage to ask him what had been at the back of my mind all this time. 

“How’s your conspiracy investigation going?” I asked cautiously. 

Sully scoffed and made it seem like it wasn’t a big deal. 

“It’s a personal project. I can’t say anything yet because there isn’t anything to say,” he answered. 

He’s nuts, I thought.

“You’re nuts. What have you been up to man?”

“Something is going on in Ebony Lake and I’m going to get to the bottom of it. I don’t know what it is yet, but I’ll find out.”

“When did you turn into a vigilante?” I asked.

“This is why I don’t tell you anything. You offend and belittle me. I don’t appreciate it,” Sullivan replied. He walked off and announced to the team that we were going to start running plays. 

“Whatever man, we’re here to play ball,” I grumbled. 

When I came home from practice, I saw Phoebe teaching Charlie how to play the flute and he seemed to be enjoying it. I always resented her for being able to have quality time with him—I just didn’t have their close connection.

As a father I felt like a failure—I just didn’t know how to bond with him as he grew older. Phoebe had no issues on that front. It pained me to feel so distant from my son—it made me feel like I was doing something wrong.  

My father was cold with us, but it was a different world back then—that’s how it was supposed to be. That’s how he raised us to be decent men, and according to him it made sense. 

I felt so irritated with Sullivan and Phoebe that day. I felt like the world was against me, refusing to give me a break. I went on a drive to clear my head. I didn’t like feeling sorry for myself—in the end, I knew that it was no use anyway. I was a family man and I needed to be strong. 

I drove down the neighborhood and turned the corner at Sellner Lane. I saw my brother talking with Billy Barnes outside his house. 

Billy was around my age. He was a scrawny man with copper hair, green eyes and a “sunny” disposition. Though the years had taken away the spark in his eyes, he was the type of neighbor who said: “thank you” way too often. 

Sully knew how I felt about him and called me a grumpy numb nut because of it, but there was something suspicious about a man who acted too nice. 

It felt like he was trying to mask something behind closed doors. Billy was considered an upstanding member of the community though, go figure. I continued on my drive and passed Lucia Aguilar’s house. 

My heart dropped as I slowed down the car. The mailbox was smashed to bits. Lucia’s car was thrashed—it had dents, scrapes, scratches and broken glass—to top it all off, there was something spray painted on the trunk: “GO BACK TO WHERE YOU CAME FROM SPIC BITCH.” It was unacceptable. Someone had been viciously attacked. 

As soon as I put the car in park, Lucia came flying out of the house with her fists raised at Jeffrey. He was frantically backpedaling out of her front door as fast as possible. I immediately jumped out of the car and prepared myself to de-escalate the situation. I had done so a few times before between students—basketball players—at least I had some experience. 

“It was you! It was you, you goddamn idiot!” Lucia shouted.

“I didn’t do it, crazy bitch! You’re tripping balls!” Jeffrey shouted back. He put up his arms to defend himself. 

“Who else would do it?! Who else is there?!” Lucia continued. 

“I wasn’t even in the area!” Jeffrey yelled. 

“Yeah, you were! I know about the bitches you hang around in this neighborhood,” Lucia snapped. 

I slowly approached them. My idea was to calm them down but I wasn’t sure how effective that was going to be. 

“Hey guys, c’mon now. Let’s try to relax. Let’s chill out,” I began to say.

They cut me off and continued to incoherently scream at each other. 

“I’m sick and tired of your shit, skank ass slut!” Jeffrey exclaimed and smacked Lucia’s head with a wind-up punch. She cradled her skull and stepped back. I stared at them in total shock—rage burned through my stomach. I couldn’t believe Jeffrey had laid his hands on a woman. 

“Stop it, Jeffrey. Stop it right now, not this shit again,” Lucia pleaded while massaging her skull. I stepped forward, fully prepared to defend her if he tried something else. 

“Oh, now you wanna act all nice, huh? Now you wanna act nice?!” Jeffrey started punching her like she was a punching bag. She screamed in terror. I quickly acted and lunged forward, tackling him to the ground, right on Lucia’s front lawn. I did my best to hold him down, while Billy and Sullivan were running down the street to assist me. They helped me hold him down while Jeffrey wriggled like a worm to break free.

“Let go! Get off! Get the hell off me, crackers! White assholes! Go mess with your kid!” Jeffrey bellowed. Sully slapped him on the head. He stopped screaming. 

“What does that have to do with anything? You assaulted a woman. You’re in big trouble mister,” Billy warned. Jeffrey tried his best to turn his head towards Billy while he squirmed on the ground. He glared at him with bloodshot eyes. 

“Don’t play with me, white boy.” 

Billy chuckled at Jeffrey’s comment. He leaned over and whispered in his ear. Jeffrey’s face turned white. He turned back around and stopped struggling. I gave Billy a curious look, he shrugged at me.

“What’d you tell him?” I asked. Billy paused for a moment. He smiled and told me that he warned him not to call him white boy again. I softly nodded and gave him a thumbs-up. I doubted that that was what Billy had whispered, but I wasn’t about to argue that right then and there—it was neither the time nor the place to do so. 

When the police arrived they took over and arrested him. Jeffrey continued to curse under his breath until he was catapulted into the back of a police cruiser. 

“Thanks, bro,” I told Sullivan as we wiped grass residue off our shirts and pants. 

“I’m always here for you.” He briefly placed a hand on my shoulder, then went to speak with the police. Billy stuck out his hand and smiled at me like a lunatic. 

“It was very nice to see you again, Duncan. We should talk sometime, at the clubhouse. We hold meetings there. I think you’d be interested in the ways we keep Ebony Lake safe from outside forces,” Billy explained. 

I hesitantly shook his cold, scrawny hand. 

“Nice to see you too. I’ll let you know,” I replied.

“Splendid!” Billy said merrily. He skipped over to join Sullivan. 

Insufferable prick. 

“Hey.”

I turned and saw Lucia with a bandage in her eye, along with a medical wrap fastened to her head. Jeffrey had done a number on her. 

“Hi, Lucia. How do you feel?”

“I’ll live. I just wanted to say thanks. Thank you for helping me. You didn’t have to do that.”

“Of course, anytime.”

Lucia half turned her body towards her house but it seemed like she wasn’t done speaking. She hesitated and didn’t move. She stared at the ground for a few seconds before turning her gaze back on me. 

“What if it wasn’t him?” Lucia asked.

I assumed she meant Jeffrey, I wasn’t sure what she was getting at. 

“What do you mean?”

“Jeffrey is a certified assface, but he’s never called me a “spic” before. I don’t know, it’s weird. It doesn’t seem like something he’d do.”

I knew some of the history between Jeffrey and Lucia. It wasn’t pretty. Unfortunately to me, it was very believable that he’d do something like that. He was a detestable human being. He also abused drugs and alcohol. Someone who wasn’t fit to be a father. 

“Hasn’t he trashed your house before?” I asked.

“He has, but not like this. This could've been someone else.”

“Who?” I asked, with concern present in my voice.

“I have no idea. That’s what scares me,” Lucia answered. 

Lucia’s response made me uneasy. It made me think about what Sully had been “investigating.” What was going on in Ebony Lake?

CHAPTER 7

PHOEBE

PRESENT DAY

“What the fuck is that?!” Lucia shouted. She crawled underneath a brown table, away from the windows.

“Bullets tearing apart your house,” Sullivan answered. 

My heart felt like it wanted to burst out of my chest as shivers ran up and down my body. After that day, I knew what it felt like to be shot at. 

“Any idea why they’re trying to kill us?” I asked.

“Not a clue!” Lucia answered. 

There was a pause in the gunfire. A small jolt of relief crept up my stomach, I hoped it was over. 

“Do you think it stopped?” I whispered. Sullivan held up his index finger and waited. After a few seconds, he softly nodded. I slowly crawled over to get a better view of the window and rose for a quick look. I saw nothing, the street was empty. I dropped back down. 

“I don’t see anyone,” I said quietly. 

My head started ringing and I clutched the back of my head in pain. 

“Better wait for the police to arrive, I’m staying like this. I dialed them while we were getting shot at,” Sullivan informed us. 

“Nerves of steel,” Lucia commented. 

“Balls of steel,” Sullivan corrected. 

We briefly chuckled, breaking the tension in the room, which was as thick as a bowl of oatmeal. When I heard police sirens roaring closer and closer, I released the breath I didn’t know I had been holding. It felt like we had been waiting for hours. 

When they knocked on the door, we all got up to explain to them what had occurred. We had no idea who had shot at the house so they retrieved some of the bullet casings and placed them into their evidence bags. 

Lucia was infuriated and rightfully so. 

“They stole my daughter, trashed my place, then tried to kill me. They made this very personal,” Lucia told me. I briefly squeezed her shoulder, trying to comfort her. It was a dire situation and she needed all the support she could get. 

“It’s a lot to deal with, I know.”

“Why? What have I done wrong? Why are they doing this to me? What do they want with my daughter?” Lucia sat down, and her reddened face began to scrunch up. She sat on the littered ground and began to cry. I knelt beside her and affectionately rubbed her back. 

“It’ll be okay, we’ll find her. I promise you. We’re going to find her and the people responsible for kidnapping our children,” I declared. 

Lucia glanced at me and nodded.

“I just need a minute, just one,” Lucia said breathlessly. 

I walked over to Sullivan, who was identifying the bullet holes in a seat cushion that had been next to him. 

“You okay?” I asked.

“Yeah, I’ll be fine. I’m a bit shaken up, but happy to be alive.”

Sully traced his finger over the bullet holes and shuddered. We had been a few inches away from knocking on death’s door. It seemed like someone wanted us quiet or they were trying to kill Lucia after taking her daughter. That seemed more likely, but who?

“Same here. I’m guessing, there’s some people out there who are trying to prevent the truth from coming out,” I said. 

Sully examined the door thoughtfully. 

“Perhaps the people I was trying to find once,” Sullivan answered under his breath.

“You think so?” I asked.

“It could be. I’m not sure, I’m sorry.”

Due to his foggy memory, I wasn’t entirely sure he knew what he was saying. Duncan never really believed he was investigating anyone, but we just didn’t know for sure. He had been through so much. 

“It’s okay. Lucia and I are going to start asking questions.”

“Careful with her, she’s a predicament waiting to happen.”

Sully gave her the side-eye and nodded at me. He knew that I knew what he was trying to say. She was a land mine, if you stepped on her she’d go boom. 

“I’ve noticed, but she lost her daughter. I can’t help but feel sorry for her. I’m obliged to help her, that’s what it feels like to me.”

I truly believed that. I couldn’t live on with my life until I knew the truth behind everything. I needed to correct my fatal mistake somehow, the one that had caused Charlie’s heartbreaking disappearance. 

“You’re a good person, Phoebe. I don’t know what my brother did to deserve you,” Sullivan said sincerely. 

“He’s good too, he’s just rough around the edges.”

“What will you do next?” Sullivan asked.

“Talk to Jeffrey Ramos,” I said.

We’ll see what that slime-ball knows.

Jeffrey lived in a shoddy apartment building. The building was worn down with fading colors on the walls, rusty metalwork and stained carpeting. As we marched down the hallway I noticed how narrow it was and how dim the lights were. Most of them flickering on and off. 

The stench was putrid, as a moldy damp odor permeated my nose, causing tears to slip out of my eyes. 

“The mystery number didn’t say anything else?” Lucia inquired.

I had told Lucia about the text. I still didn’t know who had sent it, but between that eerie warning and the gunshots, it was clear someone was warning me. Maybe it was the monster who had abducted the children. 

“Nothing yet, but I’ll keep an eye on it. I don’t know what the hell they want, but they better not threaten me,” I said.

“I’d say we’ve already been threatened. They shot up my house like it was a terrorist hideout.” Lucia seemed tense, she was still shaken up after what had happened. I was too, but we had to move on. We couldn’t let them scare us away, whoever it had been. 

We narrowly passed by two muscular bald men with tattoos—they looked like twins. I didn’t get a look at their faces because they moved too quickly, but they were oddly familiar. I was sure I had seen them before, but I wasn’t sure where. 

“It feels like the origin of human disease began in this place,” Lucia commented. 

“It does smell like something died twice in here—if that were possible.”

“I’m not surprised he lives in this infested shit-hole—he’d be patient zero.”

“Do you know which apartment it is?” I asked.

“It’s on the second floor. We’ll take the stairs. There’s no way that elevator works properly.”

I followed Lucia as we quickly ascended the stairs. We pushed through a creaking metal door and made our way down the hall to apartment “221”.

“Is this it?” I asked.

“Yup.”

Lucia began banging on the door. I jumped in shock. What was she trying to do? Alert the entire block?

“Hey! Maybe not so loud?” I pleaded.

“There’s no time to waste,” she replied hastily.

I held up my hands and tried to get her to stop.  

“We won’t find your daughter, or anyone else if we’re in jail.”

Lucia turned to me with darkened eyes. She gave me a grim look. 

“I’ll kill anyone who gets in my way.”

“That’s what I’m afraid of.”

“He’s not there!” a voice rang out from behind. 

We slowly turned our heads and saw him. A large heavy-set man wearing a filthy mechanic’s outfit. He had thick greasy hands and an ashy forehead. I believed that the horrible odor we had been smelling was coming directly from him. 

Lucia stepped forward, I followed to back her up. 

“You know Jeffrey Ramos?” Lucia asked.

“I work with him on occasion, he’s good with his hands.”

“Do you know where he is?” I asked.

The ugly man squinted at us both and studied us thoroughly. He made me feel all degrees of discomfort. It felt like his eyes were trying to search underneath our clothes. 

“Why are you asking about Jeff?” The large man gave us a devilish smirk, it was extremely unnerving. 

“My daughter’s missing, fuckball! Do you know where he is or not? Every second my daughter is gone is a higher chance I’ll never see her again.”

I couldn’t believe she had called him that. 

“Lucia! Jesus,” I mumbled.

The ugly man started laughing. It was a good thing he didn’t choke slam the both of us right then and there—it seemed like he had the strength to do so.

“He’s probably down at this bar: Skippers,” he answered.

Much to my surprise, Lucia’s straightforward approach had paid off.  

“Are you sure?” I asked.

“More than likely yes.”

“I’ll take it,” Lucia replied. 

“I know that bar, it’s not far from here,” I said.

Lucia turned to walk away from the behemoth. 

“I know it too, I used to work there remember?” Lucia remarked.

It didn’t take long for us to reach Skippers. We entered a chaotic, rowdy, dilapidated establishment that was slightly higher in quality than the apartment building we had just left. Sticky counters, wobbly chairs, outdated vinyl seating and best of all, plenty of disgusting drunk men who thought all women were free real estate. You’d think I’d have a sign around my neck that said: “Please harass me!”

We pushed and shoved through the crowd to get to an open spot near the bar. 

“How long did you work here again?”

I vaguely remembered that Lucia had worked at Skippers. She was the type of gal who had worked many odd jobs over the years. She did everything she could to support herself and her daughter. 

“A few years. I dropped out of school during that time. It wasn’t for me,” Lucia explained. 

“How did you like it here?”

“I didn’t,” Lucia responded curtly. 

We scanned our eyes around to see if we could spot the lion. Meanwhile, a young man approached Lucia with all the confidence in the world. 

“Someone’s coming, and by the looks in his eyes, he wants to screw you.”

“Yeah, I’ll screw him—I’ll screw him to a table with four nails and a hammer,” Lucia warned. 

I believed her. I silently prayed she didn’t have those objects with her. 

“Who is he?”

“Brent, he’s a nobody—he’s skinnier than a street light—you think I’d ever entertain his nonsense?” Lucia asked aloud. 

I was sure she’d swing him around like a baseball bat. Maybe she’d use him to hit Jeffrey. 

“Lucia, baby! You working tonight?” Brent asked obnoxiously. 

“I don’t work here anymore, I work at another bar—a sports one.” 

“I gotta start going to that one then. Any chance we can get lit up and fuck tonight? We can do it at my place,” Brent offered. 

“Pardon me?” Lucia asked.

“What? Is that a yes? I miss sucking on your boobies—they’re nice funbags,” Brent slurred. He gave me an enthusiastic thumbs-up. I returned a stank face. 

“You really shouldn’t talk to a lady like that,” I said sternly.

“This isn’t a lady—Lucia’s a whore—everyone knows that. She’s like a public library. Everyone waits in line to check her out,” Brent giggled.

Why did Brent have to say that? Some drunk men were that obnoxious. I was afraid he wouldn’t live to see tomorrow. 

“You chose violence,” I stated. 

“What? Why are you talking to me, dumb bitch?” Brent asked me.

Without missing a beat Lucia grabbed his head and pounded it against the wooden counter, instantly attracting the attention of everyone in our immediate vicinity. I was surprised that Brent’s skull hadn’t been cracked in half. 

“He was asking for it—he was asking for it everyone,” I said aloud. 

Lucia yanked the back of his head by his ponytail and tightly gripped his nose. My guess was that his nose was very much broken, since it was dripping with blood. I knew Lucia was fiery, but she surprised me that day—she wasn’t afraid to take it that far. 

She didn’t take shit from anyone—and I respected that—to a degree. Some folks didn’t know that her daughter was missing, but they would soon find out. If Lucia regularly acted like a hot-headed ball of fire, imagine how she was while Kaya remained missing. 

“Listen closely, you lobotomized mouth-breather. My daughter is missing and I’m trying to find her. You really—I mean, you don’t want to fuck with me right now. You got it? If you look at me again, I’ll gouge out your eyeballs and stuff them inside your tiny ballsack. Everyone’ll call you ‘four balls.’ Would you like that?!” Lucia asked fiercely. 

Brent shook his head while whimpering, his body was shaking so hard I thought he wet himself. 

“No, no please,” Brent spat out, tears and snot running down his face. Lucia let go and wiped her hands on his shirt. She then shoved him away. Everyone continued with what they were doing, and they sure as hell didn’t steal a single glance at Lucia. The bartender at the counter stared at her in shock. She glared at him and dared him to say something. He smiled awkwardly and pretended to clean a glass. 

“Sorry about all the drama, I just like to teach guys a lesson,” Lucia whispered to me.

“No need to be sorry, he deserved it, but maybe we should tone it down a bit for next time. Remember, we’re here to find Kaya, but we can’t do that if we attract the wrong kind of attention.”

“I know, I know,” Lucia said curtly. 

This might be a problem, but I won’t abandon her or what I’ve set out to do. I need to find the person responsible for taking Charlie. I need to redeem myself for failing him. Nothing will stop me. 

“It’s packed in here, you see Jeffrey anywhere?”

“I don’t, you think the guy was lying? Maybe he was deflecting, so that he’d get Jeffrey to get out of town.”

“I doubt it. Jeffrey’s not that clever, and if I found out that man was lying to us…I’ll give him the can-o-whoop-ass special.”

“Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that.”

Can you hear the music? Can you hear it, Mom?

My heart started beating faster, as a chill ran down my spine. I looked outside and saw that it was beginning to rain. Everything from that night was coming back. How cold it had been, the smoky odor that came from the sky, how drenched I was when I came back home, how puffy and red my eyes were from crying my heart out…he was home. I had to remember that he was home, and safe. 

Mom! Mommy! Help me! Can you hear it?! Can you hear the music?!

My ears rang, and a low buzz shrouded my head, causing a tingling sensation from head to toe. I had to get away, I had to calm myself down. 

“Hey, I’ll be back. I’ll look by the bathrooms,” I informed Lucia. 

“Okay, I’ll keep looking for the little rat.”

I burst into a bathroom stall and stared at myself in the smudged, cracked mirror. I focused on my breathing because I felt like I was suffocating. I closed my eyes and forced myself to remember that Charlie was home. He was okay, he was safe. 

Nothing—I no longer heard his voice penetrating my skull. I was alright, for the time being. I thought his voice would go away once he came back, but I had been dead wrong. It’s almost as if it got worse and louder. Whoever took my son was going to receive the most absolute, righteous justice imaginable. For all the pain, misery and anguish we had all endured, but especially for my son—I was doing it for him. I would redeem myself as his mother—for him. 

I left the bathroom and swiveled my head around to find Lucia. Before I could find her, a burly man grabbed my shoulder from behind. He came around and gave me a toothy smile. I gently raised my arm to get him off. 

“Yes?” I asked. 

“Sorry, I just thought you were a hottie. You wanna get outta here?” he asked.

I flashed my marriage ring to him. He shrugged, his nonchalant attitude incensed me. 

“I’m married, buddy,” I snapped.

“I don’t care if you don’t,” he answered like a pervert. 

“I do care,” I said coldly.

“Why? You look like you’ve been married a long time. I’m sure it’s no fun anymore. He’s like a roommate now, isn't he?”

“Unlike you, I have some sense of morality regarding the most important relationships in my life—yes it’s hard—but I love my husband.”

The man stayed quiet, not knowing what to say. I examined his hand and shook my head in utter disgust. 

“Why don’t you take off your damn ring before degrading yourself and your poor wife?” I scolded. 

The man rushed away, ashamed of himself, as he should’ve been. It astounded me how flippantly amoral a lot of the men in Ebony Lake were. Duncan was a grumpy guy, but he was good at heart. He’d never sleep around—and he’d never entertain that nonsense—I appreciated that very much about him. 

“You alright?” Lucia asked, walking up to me. 

“Yeah, that guy was a real mother—it’s alright. No need to dwell on it,” I said, suppressing a sigh. 

“Nothing but slime balls and slices of boiling shit inhabit this place.” Lucia let out a dry laugh. 

“How did you ever work here?” I asked.

“I needed something at night so I could watch Kaya during the day. Not a lot of options in this dead shit-hole of a town.”

“I’m sorry,” I offered.

“For what?”

“Jeffrey should’ve been a better father, he should’ve been helping you. It’s not fair,” I proclaimed.

Taking care of yourself was hard work without any help—add a child to that equation—and it was damn near impossible to do everything right. I knew that Lucia had done the best she could with the resources she had available.

“World’s not fair, Phoebe. It’s not your fault, it’s mine. I had a baby with someone who unfortunately is only functioning with half a brain.”

I chuckled at her comment before spotting Jeffrey in a dark corner. He was at a small table, a beer jug in hand, caressing a young waitress who looked like a high school student. 

“Lucia, there!” I pointed at him. Before I could react, Lucia flew over there like a hawk diving down to catch its prey in the ocean. I quickly followed her, as she swatted Jeffrey’s hand away with an audible slap. 

“It’s okay sweetie. I’m here to kill this man,” Lucia threatened. 

The waitress scurried away, while Jeffrey shouted incoherently at her.

“What the hell, bitch?! Her tight ass was mine! What the hell do you want, Lucia?!” 

“That tight ass is barely legal, ‘raper-face’. What is wrong with you?” Lucia asked.

“Legal is still legal, sweet cheeks,” Jeffrey said coyly. 

“Listen, where’s Kaya? Do you know where she is? You don’t answer your damn phone.”

“What do you mean? What’s going on?” Jeffrey asked.

Lucia’s neck visibly bulged with anger, and I swore I could feel her face becoming hotter with rage by the second. 

“Kaya’s missing! She’s been missing, that’s why I was trying to contact you, you idiot!” Lucia shouted.

Confusion washed over Jeffrey’s face as he stood up, and tried to contemplate what Lucia had just told him.

“What do you mean she’s missing? What the hell happened?” Jeffrey asked. 

“I was at work. She got nabbed while she was walking home from school. I don’t know who took her,” Lucia informed him.

“So let me get this straight. This whole time you’ve been bashing me and criticizing me for being a bad father, but you’re the one who lost Kaya. You lost our daughter. Wow, that’s incredible. That’s a job well done, mommy,” Jeffrey ridiculed.  

“Fuck you,” Lucia snarled. 

“She’s been the only parent to Kaya all these years, and you know that,” I added. 

“Relax lady, I’m talking with Lucia, not you. After all, because of her, Kaya’s being trafficked right now. You know, human trafficking. The shit that no one comes back from. Our daughter is gone forever, and it’s all Lucia’s fault,” Jeffrey mocked. 

Lucia stared at the floor, her blood most likely boiling, as was mine. My stomach roiled for her, and it inflamed for her, because of Jeffrey’s cruelness. 

“Why are you so sure she’s lost forever? Do you know something? Are you hiding something?” I asked pointedly. 

Lucia’s face shot up, and she shoved her finger into his chest.

“Did you sell her?! You sick bastard!”

Lucia yanked him by the collar and almost smacked him, but I pulled her back before anything truly violent occurred. I badly wanted to let her tear him apart limb from limb, but it wouldn’t have solved anything. We needed to stay focused. Our goal was to find Kaya, not to kill Jeffrey. 

“Get the hell off me, bitch! I didn’t even know she was gone! I didn’t sell anything!” Jeffrey pushed her away and I caught her so she wouldn’t fall. 

“I know you broke into my house. I know it was you!” 

“What? I didn’t do anything to your house. I’ve never done anything to your house. Crazy ass lady.”

“We’ll see about that,” Lucia warned. 

Jeffrey sat back down and started drinking his jug.

“We should get out of here before they throw us out,” I whispered to her.

“If I find out you’re lying, I’ll come back and split your head open with a pool stick,” Lucia hissed.

“Whatever, good luck.” Jeffrey rolled his eyes and continued being a piece of shit. I searched his eyes and got a good look at him. I sensed he knew something and he was hiding it. There was no use in trying to beat it out of him there. I escorted Lucia away before she killed someone. 

“We’ll see him again, he’s hiding something. It’ll come to light,” I reassured her.

“When it does, he’s a dead man,” Lucia mumbled. 

“I know what to do next, I want to search local registered sex offenders in the area who’ve been released.”

“I can’t even fathom something like that, Kaya taken by a pedophile,…no, no, no. Please tell me no,” Lucia said. 

“We have to consider it, I’m sorry.”

“Did you do that with Charlie?”

“No. Duncan checked with Sullivan, I didn’t have the heart. Now I do,” I proclaimed.

CHAPTER 8

PHOEBE

Isat with Charlie in our living room, as he blankly stared at the TV. Duncan’s sports news was on.

“Hey Charlie, how are you doing?” I asked.

He didn’t answer and remained motionless. He hadn’t been speaking much at all lately and it was beginning to seriously worry me. The guilt felt as heavy as an anvil crushing my chest. 

“Do you enjoy watching sports on TV? Basketball?” I tried again.

“Yeah,” he muttered. It was something at least. 

“Do you remember music? Do you remember playing the flute? You used to love it,” I said proudly. 

He glared at me and said nothing, returning his gaze to the TV. I had the case of his old flute behind me so I unshackled it and gently retrieved it from its velvety cushion. I demonstrated it to him and smiled broadly. Once he set his eyes on it and realized what I was showing him—he stood up and went berserk.

“Nooo! Nooo! No, no, no! Put it away! Put it away now! NOOOO!” Charlie shrieked. 

“Jesus, Charlie! Okay, okay. I’m sorry! I’m sorry!” I hastily put it back in the case and tried to calm him down—I failed. He began throwing leftover cups, magazines and household decorative items all over the place. 

“NOOOOOOOOOOOOOO! NEVER!” Charlie screamed. 

I tried to place my hands on him, but he violently swatted them away. He gave me a look of pure rage and sorrow bundled into one. I had no idea that would upset him so much. 

“I’m sorry, son. I’m sorry. Please forgive me,” I sincerely whispered. 

He was breathing heavily and crying. Duncan came flying in and yanked off his headphones. 

“Hey, hey, hey! What’s going on?”

He spotted Charlie being upset and threw his hands in the air at me. 

“I showed him his old flute. He…he got upset. I don’t know,” I mumbled. 

“Jesus, Phoebe,” he said, exasperated. 

He saw all the objects Charlie had thrown on the floor and sighed.

“What is it with you and the damn music? He didn’t like it before and he doesn’t like it now. Look how upset he got. C’mon, honey.”

Duncan was right. I shouldn’t have shown him. 

“I didn’t know. Sorry. It was a bad idea,” I offered.

“It’s fine, it’s going to be a process. A process that doesn’t include the damn flute,” Duncan snapped.

“He enjoyed it once, don’t dismiss it,” I defended. 

“Yeah, once. He doesn’t frickin’ like it anymore,” Duncan snapped.

“I got it. Don’t curse at me in front of him,” I said calmly.

“Charlie, buddy, do you want to watch basketball?” Duncan asked him.

Charlie wiped his face and sat back down on the couch. He softly nodded. 

“See? You have to ask what he wants.” Duncan grinned sarcastically. 

“I don’t appreciate that,” I said sternly. 

“Because you’re wrong,” he replied quickly. 

I left the room, taking the flute with me. I locked myself in my bathroom and sat on the toilet. I took deep breaths and tried not to cry. I didn’t mean to hurt or upset him. All I wanted was the best for him—that’s all I ever wanted for Charlie—I loved him so much. I loved him so much that I was willing to go to the ends of the world to find the person responsible for robbing him of three years of his life.

I came to the unfortunate realization that Charlie resented me for pushing him to play the flute and to excel in music. I just knew that deep down he loved music like me and his late grandfather. I was only doing what my father had done with me—he pushed me to do better—to exceed all expectations when it came to playing the magnificent instrument. 

After he was done watching the basketball game with Duncan I took him back to see Farrah. I wanted to see if he’d reveal anything else regarding his abduction. Duncan was reluctant to approve of this, which pissed me off, but at least it showed he cared. 

“Yeah, I don’t know about that. Charlie just needs time to process it.”

“Why don’t we ask him then?” 

“Buddy, do you want to talk to Farrah again?” Duncan asked him. 

Charlie gave us curious looks and shrugged. 

“I’ll take that as a yes,” I remarked.

“Are you serious?” Duncan asked.

“Yes, I’m serious. I’m his mother, not some stranger to be ridiculed. I want the best for my son. Don’t you?”

Duncan scoffed at me but nodded in approval. 

“Good,” I added. 

I escorted Charlie to the front door and opened it. As he walked out, I turned to Duncan. 

“Don’t question me in front of him!” I whispered strongly. 

“Whatever! Just let the kid relax!” Duncan whispered back. 

I got in the car and we went on our way. Charlie stared out the window and observed our neighborhood of Ebony Lake. He put his hands on the windshield when we passed Lucia’s house. 

“Kaya,” he said softly.

“What was that sweetie?” I asked.

“No, Kaya,” he mumbled.

“What about Kaya?”

Charlie sighed and remained quiet. What did he know about Kaya’s disappearance? Did he see anything?

“Charlie, the people who took you, did they take Kaya as well? Is that what you’re referring to?”

“No, no. No!” Charlie shut down and remained quiet for the rest of the trip. I seriously contemplated telling Lucia that Charlie might know more about Kaya’s disappearance. I couldn’t force him to speak about it, but I wouldn’t allow anyone to beat it out of him either. I knew the only option was trying to rehabilitate him—to gently bring him back to his old self again. 

Farrah and Charlie went into her classroom to speak privately shortly after we had arrived. I waited outside in the lobby—I saw them through the window as they talked. Farrah came out of the classroom thirty minutes later, he was left alone playing with a giraffe plushie. 

“How is he?” I asked, my voice laced with concern. 

“He’s still mostly non-verbal, but he appears calmer,” Farrah mentioned.

“Really? He just started screaming and throwing things when I showed him his old flute, the one he used to play on,” I informed her.

“Okay, he did mention this. He said he didn’t like the flute anymore.”

“Oh, wow. Okay.”

“It’s possible he didn’t like playing the flute before he went missing. He may have some residual feelings of frustration that have bubbled to the surface. Now that he’s a bit unstable, he doesn’t try to control these feelings of frustration anymore—he lets them out in an explosive manner,” Farrah explained.

“That makes sense.”

“These are just my professional opinions from what I’ve been able to observe and deduce from his behavior up to this point. He may still have lingering feelings of fear and suppressed anger because of what happened. We have to remember that three years is a very long time.”

“Yeah. It is.”

“Also, he denies being kidnapped. He says he just spent some time away. This could be something the abductor repeated to him consistently to put him at ease.”

“That’s so disturbing. Oh Farrah, what did they do to my son?” I asked aloud, my voice shaky. 

“Unfortunately, out of fear of punishment, some victims of abduction can eventually give in to feelings of attachment and appeasement towards their captors,” Farrah explained. 

“Is he going to be okay?” 

“The chances are high. I believe he’ll get through this, but he has to go at his own pace. In due time, he’ll feel better being at home, just try not to do things that might upset or trigger him. The flute would be an example,” Farrah instructed. 

“Okay, I understand. Thank you, Farrah.”

Farrah called out to Charlie and he came with the giraffe plushie firmly in his grasp.

“You’re going home now, bud,” Farrah said sweetly. 

“Can I keep it?” he asked.

“Yeah, it’s all yours.”

“Okay,” he mumbled.

As we walked to the car, a gang of nosy reporters rushed us out of nowhere. They tried shoving mics in my face, but I swatted them away. 

“What happened to Charlie?!”

“Do you have any information regarding these mysterious child abductions in Ebony Lake?”

“Why did Charlie run away that night?” 

“Has Charlie talked to the police regarding his disappearance?”

“Who took Kaya Ramos? Is it related to Charlie’s previous abduction?!”

Charlie screamed, scaring everyone in our vicinity. I instinctively grabbed him and held him close to me to protect him from any harm. 

“You’re upsetting him! Leave—us—alone!” I ferociously declared. My cheeks became flushed with fury as I took him away from those barbaric asshats. 

“You’re fine, Charlie. You’re okay.” I didn’t want to make an angrier scene so I glanced back to ensure the crowd had dissipated. Thankfully they had. 

As we drove home Charlie stared at the giraffe with hostile intent. That’s what it looked like anyway. 

 I didn’t want to think of him as some deranged mental patient. After all, he was my only son—a sane, normal child. Unfortunately, he had gone through an incredibly abnormal, tragic abduction. One we would have to overcome together. 

“You like the giraffe, sweetheart?” I asked.

“He taught me things,” Charlie whispered.

“Who? Who did?” I asked frantically, as my heart dropped. 

Charlie turned away and ignored me. My skin went cold as my head spun with merciless thoughts. All the cruel, horrific things that could’ve been done to my child overcame my mind like an infectious plague. 

CHAPTER 9

PHOEBE

There was another mysterious text from the mystery number: “ The secrets will kill us all.”

I didn’t know what to think of it, but I wouldn’t let it deter us. Lucia agreed, we had to continue. 

“Whatever secrets there are, we’ll find them. They’re just trying to scare us.”

“We must be doing something right,” I replied. 

After classes, Lucia and I sat in my mini-van like a couple of FBI agents, researching registered sex offenders on my laptop in the Ebony Lake area. Surprisingly, there weren’t many in the surrounding area, except for one man named Rodrick Woodley. He seemed familiar, but the picture was blurred. 

“Haven’t we seen this guy before?” I asked.

Lucia inspected the screen closely and gasped. 

“Shit, that’s the guy who lives next to Jeffrey—that big ass ugly dude! He’s a freaking 'pedo'!” Lucia exclaimed.

“Holy shit.”

“Should we pay him a visit?” Lucia asked.

“I don’t think that’d be a good idea. It should be in a public place, and he’s not going to agree to meet with us.”

“Then what?”

“Hold on. In my experience, criminals in Ebony Lake are often given second chances—if they’re not murderers. There are a few rehabilitation programs they can join to help the community and re-acclimate to society.”

“Oh, great. So, child molesters are fine then? They can pick up some trash at the park and ‘la-dee-dah,’ everything is ‘a-ok?’ ”

“I don’t make the rules.”

I typed his name on the computer and found a recent photo of him on Bookface. He was holding up a certificate that said: “Contributing Citizen.” The tagged location showed that he was at the Ebony Lake Community Center. 

“Found him, looks like he’s in a community reparations program. Whatever the hell that is,” I commented.

“When do we string him up and feast on his insides?”

I scanned for more photos and saw him playing board games with senior citizens. 

“Looks like he plays chess with older folks on Wednesdays and Fridays, from  6:00 p.m. to 9:00 p.m. We can find him tonight.”

“Can’t wait to talk to this bastard. Did it say what he did?”

“Sicko sexually assaulted two underage girls fifteen years ago.”

“Sick son of a bitch. They should’ve put a bullet in between his eyes. No use having a guy like that alive. Better if he’s in the ground.”

“Well, that’s brutal, but you have a point.”

“If I find out he had anything to do with Kaya—I’ll kill him myself. I’ll hang him in the public square with all of his guts spilling from his stomach,” Lucia warned. 

“I don’t need those horrific details in my head, Lucia.”

“Isn’t that what you want to do to the person who abducted Charlie? Hmm?” Lucia asked aggressively. 

“I want justice for my son, and I want the truth. I’m not on some vendetta that’ll leave me with an embittered heart. I want to get this done, and then I want to move on with my life,” I proclaimed. 

“Alright, Phoebe. I’ll respect that.”

It didn’t take long for 6:00 p.m. to arrive. The Ebony Lake Community Center wasn’t too far either. It was next to the abandoned Ebony Lake Clubhouse, the place Sullivan had mentioned. It was a yellow, moderately-sized concrete building with a few recreational rooms inside. Community members held parties, speaking engagements, game nights, movie nights and things of that nature.

When we entered, it was mostly empty, except for a couple of elderly gentlemen playing chess in the corner. It didn’t take long to find Rodrick in a recreational room. He was a massive, colossal round mound of a man who stood six foot six and weighed over 300 pounds—anyway, that’s what it said on his online profile. The guy was a human animal. 

Curiously enough, he was playing cards with our neighbor—Billy Barnes. Before Lucia shot like a predator missile towards them, I held her back. 

“Let’s do this my way, please?” I asked her softly.

“What’s your way?” Lucia asked incredulously.

“Watch,” I replied. 

I casually walked up to them and gave them a friendly grin. Billy was counting the piles of poker chips spread out over the table while Rodrick shuffled the cards. 

“Hey guys.”

Rodrick eyed me suspiciously while Billy returned a wide smile.

“You again?” Rodrick asked.

“Oh, hey neighbor! How are you? How’s Duncan? Oh my gosh—Charlie! How’s Charlie? It’s so amazing he’s back!” Billy said enthusiastically.

“Duncan’s the same old, you know—a bit grumpy, a bit happier when he’s watching basketball. Charlie? Charlie has been a dream. I still can’t believe he’s back. It’s a blessing for sure,” I said truthfully. 

“That’s spectacular, Phoebe! Wow, I’m so happy for you!” Billy beamed. 

“You know her?” Rodrick asked with a frown. 

“Yeah, she’s my neighbor.”

“How’s the accounting business?” I asked.

“Oh, it’s fantastic! I get to work from home and work has been very steady!” Billy smiled. 

“I’m happy for you, Billy. You deserve it,” I stated.

“I’m the neighbor too,” Lucia shot in, popping up. 

“Oh, Lucia! Wow! What brings you guys here? Some fun and games?” Billy asked. 

“I know them. They asked me about Jeff,” Rodrick answered. 

“We found him. You don’t have to worry about that,” Lucia snapped. 

“Oh, well good! I know he can be a bit of a hassle. I hope everything’s okay,” Billy remarked. 

“The brown one called me a fuckball,” Rodrick said, pointing at Lucia. 

“Probably because you called her brown. That’s not a very nice thing to say. We shouldn’t refer to people by their skin color like that,” Billy scolded him.

“Can we play with you guys?”

“Sure! I’ll deal you in,” Billy replied. 

Lucia and I cautiously sat down while Rodrick suspiciously looked us over. Billy gave us our cards and our poker chips to start. We began playing. 

“Are you the lady who lost her son?” Rodrick asked me.

“Yes, but he’s back now.”

“Missing for three years, huh? I read about it,” Rodrick muttered.

“I’m surprised you know how,” Lucia commented.

“What?” Rodrick questioned with drool slipping out of the corner of his mouth. He was a truly disgusting “thing”—emphasized by the fact that he assaulted those poor girls. 

“I can assure you. The community’s very happy that Charlie’s back,” Billy mentioned. 

“What about Kaya? Will the community be happy when she returns?” Lucia asked.

“Oh, yes! We are hoping and praying for her safe return.”

“Would you happen to know anything about that, Rodrick?” Lucia asked him.

He slowly turned his colossal melon of a head and slowly licked his lips. He glared at her for a full thirty seconds before answering:

“No. I don’t know.”

“I don’t believe that,” Lucia hissed.

“You better believe it, because it’s the truth,” Rodrick answered.

“No. I know you. I know what you’ve done. You’re sick, despicable and a degenerate. You should still be rotting in a prison cell after what you did. You sexually assaulted two girls. You don’t deserve redemption,” Lucia spat out. 

“Why the hell am I being accused of anything? I’m just playing cards,” Rodrick grumbled. He was a man with a horrible bodily odor of stinky feet. He breathed heavily and spoke like he had grains in his throat. He was a very unnerving figure. 

Lucia stood up, and I quickly followed suit to ensure nothing crazy happened. My heart pounded in my chest because I knew Lucia liked to set herself off, like fireworks. 

“I know you did something to her, to my Kaya. I know you did!”

“C’mon now, that was a very long time ago. While it was inexcusable. Rodrick is trying to better himself now, and he’s trying to be a better citizen—a productive citizen. I’ve given him a second lease on life and I’d appreciate it if you gave him another chance,” Billy explained. 

“Where were you the night Kaya disappeared?” Lucia asked Rodrick.

“What?” 

“Answer the damn question,” Lucia commanded.

“Lucia, calm down,” I interjected.

“I remember the night she went missing, I was at work, in the auto shop. I didn’t take her, if that’s what you’re thinking,” Rodrick answered.

“Can you prove that?” Lucia asked.

“I can, I was clocked in.”

“Did you take her with Jeffrey? I swear to everything I know—I’ll gut you,” Lucia whispered. 

“That’s enough, Lucia!” I gave her a stern look. Rodrick chuckled and shook his head. Billy looked alarmed. Lucia stared at the table, breathing deeply, eyes filled with rage. She slowly sat back down and I did the same. 

She was acting insane, I understood why, but she had to control herself. We couldn’t go around, all willy-nilly, accusing people of child abduction. 

“Look, we’re very sorry about Kaya’s disappearance. I know you’re going through an impossible situation. I hope she’s found soon,” Billy offered.

“Thanks,” Lucia mumbled.

“I’m actively trying to get the unwanted goons out of Ebony Lake. The people that don’t belong there,” Billy explained. 

“What do you mean?” I asked.

“What? What’s the question?” Billy asked nervously. 

He darted his eyes around my steady gaze and wiped the sweat crawling down his forehead. 

“Are you okay?” I asked, with a stronger voice. 

“Yeah, no—I’m fine. I’m good. What were we talking about?” Billy asked.

We all glanced at each other around the table exchanging uncertain looks. I had no idea what was going on or why the mood had suddenly turned sour. I thought Lucia would be the cause of that, but it turned out to be Billy who started acting strange. 

“RPL,” Rodrick said, as he folded his hands on the table and nodded. 

RPL—the thing that Sullivan mentioned and couldn’t remember.

“What is that?” I asked carefully.

“It’s this—well,” Rodrick began.

“It’s nothing, just an association for the betterment of the community. That’s all. Restoration and Peace League,” Billy cut in. 

“Really? RPL, huh? I’ve never heard of that,” Lucia said.

“It’s in the works. It’s been a project,” Billy added.

“Tell the truth. What is that?” Lucia asked fiercely. 

“Nothing, stay out of it. It’s none of your business,” Rodrick snapped. 

“I’ll make it my business,” Lucia warned. She leaned over and returned Rodrick’s icy glare. I swallowed hard and remained alert. Something was brewing—something nasty and thick was brewing in the damp air of the room. 

Billy and Rodrick were doing something strange. What was it? I wasn’t sure yet, and I wasn’t sure if it would lead to Kaya. However, I’d wager that they had something to do with it. I didn’t trust Billy Barnes’ super friendly wacko-face- facade—it was off-putting and it was phony as hell.

“Stay out of it or I’ll show you what I did to those two girls. I’ll give you a proper, physical demonstration. Would you like that?” Rodrick whispered like a complete piece of shit. 

I shut my eyes for a split second because I knew what would happen next: Lucia viciously threw the cards at Rodrick’s face and promptly flipped the table over while letting out a guttural growl that frightened me. I quickly moved to her side and held her back before she clawed off his smug face. 

“Where’s my daughter?! Where the hell is my daughter?! Where’s Kaya?! What did you do to her?! What did you do, you scumbag!” Lucia screamed. 

Billy and Rodrick just stared at us with blank faces, while I dragged her outside. It was an arduous effort, but I managed to get her outside. Lucia’s hair was disheveled and her cheeks were red from screaming. She wiped some tears that rolled down her flushed face. 

“You cannot behave like that. That was completely unacceptable. That was nonsense,” I scolded.

“Did you hear what he said to me?!”

“I did, and I know it’s very upsetting, but you can’t let him get to you like that. You’re going to get yourself in trouble, and if you do—you’ll never find Kaya. Do you understand me? We have to do this the right way.”

“Phoebe, he said he was going to do me like those girls he assaulted. That motherfucker—I’ll end his life right now. I have a gun, I’ll shoot him. I’ll put a bullet in between his eyes and do the world a favor,” Lucia declared. 

“No, Lucia. You don’t want to do that.”

“I’ll gladly end his sorry life. The creator knows he doesn’t belong here anymore.”

Lucia was pacing back and forth, still upset at what Rodrick had said. I couldn’t blame her. Rodrick was the worst of the worst. A slimy dirtbag who deserved to get disemboweled with a wooden cooking spoon. 

“Killing him won’t solve anything, and it won’t bring back Kaya,” I urged. 

Lucia stopped and slowly pulled out a small pistol from her back pocket. My skin crawled, I felt the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. 

“Put that thing away, Lucia,” I commanded.

“Why?” Lucia asked, waving it around.

I quickly rushed her and made her point it down. 

“What are you doing?” Lucia asked.

“Yeah, you kill the bad guy. Woohoo! You’re a hero, you’re applauded, you’re celebrated on social media, people make tributes to you, and then you go to prison for premeditated murder. Can’t find Kaya from a stone-cold prison cell, can you?” I asked with a dead-serious tone. 

Lucia looked at the gun and weighed it in her hand. She sighed and put it away. 

“Why don’t you go home and cool off?”

“Alright. Fine,” Lucia whispered.

“I know you’re upset, angry and confused. I’ve felt everything you’re feeling now. How many people can tell you that? How many people can tell you that they know exactly what you’re going through? Oftentimes people don’t know, and they’ll never know what it’s like. But I know—I know what it’s like to have a missing child.”

“Yeah. I know,” Lucia uttered. 

“Come on, let me take you home.”

That’s when I saw them, the twins, Timothy and Tommy Duke, I remembered their names. They were jacked, tatted, and bald. They were smoking near the abandoned Ebony Lake Clubhouse. I never forgot the dead, soulless gaze in their eyes as they stared back at me. What were they doing near the clubhouse?

After dropping off Lucia I got home late. I retreated to my kitchen where I sat on a tall chair, resting my arms on the countertop. Duncan was drinking beers while scrolling through sports reels on his phone. 

“What happened, hon?” Duncan asked, concerned.

“We confronted Billy Barnes and Rodrick Woodley. It got intense. Lucia’s a firecracker,” I said, rubbing my forehead. 

“Why were you confronting them?” Duncan followed up.

“Rodrick’s a convicted sex offender. We think he might be involved in Kaya’s disappearance. We’re not ruling him out,” I explained.

“Why the hell was Billy there? Was he with him?”

“Yeah. I guess he’s mentoring him or something. Rodrick mentioned this RPL thing and they got weird about it,” I mentioned.

“RPL, huh?” Sully said coming out of the hallway. 

“I didn’t know you were here,” I remarked. 

I shouldn’t have been surprised. He spent a lot of time with us after what happened to his family. Duncan insisted that we needed to stay connected with him.

“Just hanging with my brother and trying to talk with my nephew. He still won’t say much, poor kid,” Sullivan said softly. 

“He seems to like watching basketball though,” Duncan said proudly.

“About damn time,” Sullivan replied.

“Only ‘cause he hates the flute now,” Duncan sighed.

“Yeah, yeah—rub it in,” I grumbled.

“It’s not like that,” Duncan stated. 

I went to the fridge, got out a bottle of water, opened it and started drinking out of it. I began thinking about the RPL. 

That has to be it. That has to be the key. Something strange is going on in Ebony Lake. 

“Sully, do you remember anything else about the RPL? Anything at all?” I asked.

Sullivan squinted his eyes and stared at the wall—thinking. 

“From what I remember, they’re a bit overzealous with the community watchdog thing, but they’re old news. Right?” Sullivan asked me.

“I don’t know, they might be back—whatever that could mean. Billy Barnes was in charge of it back then, right?” I asked.

“Yes, I believe so.”

“Something weird’s going on,” I muttered.

“It’s that evil, Phoebe. That’s what you feel,” Duncan whispered. 

“I have outdated information, it was a long time ago, it doesn’t matter anymore. I—I don’t know, I should go, I gotta water the plants.”

Sullivan grabbed his keys and wallet and scrambled out of the house. I gave Duncan a curious glance. 

“Touchy subject?” I asked.

“He refuses to tell me anything about it—about the RPL. He used to meet up with them, way back when, before his family…you know.”

“Who did he meet with?”

“From what I remember, Billy Barnes.”

I slid my phone out of my pocket and showed him a picture of Rodrick. He gasped and took a step back. 

“Oh shit, that’s him.”

“What? What do you mean?” 

“Sully met with that guy—Rodrick. Shit, I had no idea.”

“What the hell was Sully involved in?” I asked cautiously. 

Duncan set down his phone and downed the last of his beer. 

“All I know is that he saw a counselor a few times after the tragedy. It took a serious mental toll on him. You don’t know what that did to him—I lived it with him—I shared his grief and sadness. When he doesn’t remember things, it’s because he doesn’t want to remember, he blocks it out. He can’t handle the pain anymore. He wanted to off himself, Phoebe. He’s not right in the head, and we can’t blame him,” Duncan explained. 

“Yeah, I know. We can’t. What happened was—there are no words.”

“After your entire family dies in an instant. How do you move on with your life after that?”

“I don’t think you ever really do,” I replied quietly. 

A thought crossed my mind, one that had been there before, but I never truly believed it. I hesitated to ask Duncan because of how insane it sounded. The possibility had run through my mind a few times over the years, but I could never make sense of it. 

“Do you…do you think Sullivan might’ve taken Charlie? Maybe?” I asked. I immediately felt ridiculous for asking such a thing. Duncan’s eyes widened at me and he strongly shook his head.

“What? What are you even talking about? Sullivan?” Duncan questioned. He sounded upset and he had every reason to be. 

“I don’t know—I was just thinking about his state of mind and how he doesn’t remember certain things.” 

Duncan scoffed and stared at the ceiling in disbelief. 

“I go to his house twice a week. I’ve been in his room, his closets, his garage…there’s no one there, Phoebe. If there was, I would’ve known. He wouldn’t even think of doing something as vile as you’re suggesting.”

I slowly nodded my head and realized that he was right. How could anyone live with themselves after doing something like that? 

“You’re right. I just…I think to myself sometimes: ‘What in the actual hell is going on?’ ” I asked.

I heard the front door slowly closed shut. Sully unexpectedly emerged after I thought he had left. The look on his pained face said it all. He had heard everything. I immediately opened my mouth to express my apologies, but he held up a hand and I kept quiet. He took a deep breath. I glanced at Duncan, who was pinching his nose in frustration. I knew what he was thinking: why would Phoebe even bring that up?

“I forgot my work laptop,” Sullivan broke the silence. 

Duncan spotted it near the kitchen counter, it was charging. He unplugged it and gently passed it over to him. Duncan patted him on the back. 

“You guys think I took the kids? What? Secretly?” Sullivan asked, his voice low.

Duncan strongly shook his head. 

“No, not me. I never did. Listen, Phoebe doesn’t know what she’s talking about. She would never actually believe that you’d do something like that,” Duncan replied, trying to mitigate the tension between us.

“I’m so sorry, Sully. I was just…I don’t know—I wasn’t talking with any sense in mind. You’ve been a great uncle to Charlie,” I offered. 

I didn’t know how to defend myself. I’d just be justifying my accusations against my own family—a good man I had known for years. That’s what losing a child did to me. It twisted my mind and infected my thoughts. It led me to believe that anyone could betray me. 

“How could I ever do that to you? Even if I lost my own family…that’s just fucked up,” Sully responded. 

“You’d never, bro. We know that,” Duncan said with conviction. 

Sully took a few steps forward and looked both of us in the eye. 

“You can come to my house right now and throw the whole place upside down. You won’t find any children—only the things that belonged to Carina and Carson.”

I never should’ve brought it up, I don’t know what I was thinking. He was never supposed to hear the conversation I just had with Duncan. That was meant to remain behind closed doors, but perhaps it was for the better. It gave me peace of mind, as horrible as that sounded. 

“I’ve been to your house and we know you’re telling the truth,” Duncan added.

Sully nodded and seemed to accept Duncan’s apology. 

“You know what? It’s okay. I understand. Lucia’s been driven mad by this whole insanity with her missing daughter. I wouldn’t blame her if she thought anyone in this town had something to do with it. She’s desperate for answers and she has every right to be,” Sullivan asserted. 

He gave me a half smile, then chuckled. That was a good sign. 

“Don’t worry, I don’t hate you, Phoebe. I know what you two are going through. I don’t have any space in my heart for petty grievances. I just hope you find the people who did this to your children,” Sullivan said sincerely.

“Thank you, Sully. Sorry for accusing you of something so evil,” I said apologetically. 

He waved me off, indicating there was no need for forgiveness.

“I still love you all, I always will,” Sully reassured us. 

He smiled at us both before taking his leave. After Sully closed the front door, Duncan glared at me and shook his head. 

“I’m sorry, honey.”

“It’s fine. Better if we just get over it,” Duncan replied. 

Sully had his issues, but he had nothing to gain from taking children, especially his nephew. 

My mind drifted back to Rodrick Woodley—a convicted pedophile—which only meant he had been caught. How many other disgusting, inhumane monsters crawled around Ebony Lake? How many others were in hiding? Who was protecting them? 

We’d soon find out. 

CHAPTER 10

PHOEBE

Iwas in my office at school cleaning a spare flute. I had gotten rid of my previous one during the time Charlie was missing. I had to get rid of it—I couldn’t take the guilt and the shame—Charlie used to practice Angel of Ice on it. 

Charlie and Duncan were in my office. Charlie was anxious and fidgety. He kept looking around like he was searching for someone—like someone was going to snatch him up and run away with him again. It split my heart, like an anvil hitting my chest. 

“You alright, buddy?” Duncan asked him.

“No,” he answered curtly. 

“It’s alright, bud. You’ll be okay. Mom and Dad are here with you.”

Charlie turned away from us and rolled his eyes. 

“You’re wrong,” Charlie replied coldly. 

Duncan and I exchanged worrisome looks. 

It had been Duncan’s idea to bring Charlie along to the school for the basketball game. I agreed that Charlie needed to get out of the house, but I wasn’t sure if he was ready. It was clear that he didn’t want to, but he didn’t put up much resistance. He nonchalantly went along with it. 

I just didn’t want him to suffer—that was the worst part of it—Charlie’s residual trauma. I knew that eventually, he would have to face the real world, and despite what he had suffered through, the world didn’t care—the world moved on. Unfortunately, Charlie needed to move on too, if he wanted a shot at a normal life. 

“Alright well, hang tight with your mother. I’ll go reserve your seats. I’ll see you guys soon.” Duncan exited my office. He walked down the hall and pushed through the double doors to get to the basketball gym. 

I placed my flute back in its case and clicked it shut. Charlie suspiciously glared at it.

“Don’t worry sweetie, I won’t make you play it anymore,” I said truthfully.

“Okay.”

I clicked around on my desktop and opened up my music recordings. I accidentally opened Angel of Ice and it started playing. 

“Turn that off,” Charlie growled.

“What?”

Charlie slammed his hands over his ears and tightly shut his eyes. 

“Turn it off now!” Charlie screamed. 

I frantically shut off the computer, turmoil brewed in my belly. Charlie ran off and sat in the corner, tears welled up in his eyes. I stood up and quietly went to him. I bent down and tried to meet his eyes—his somber gaze—but he wouldn’t look at me. I extended out my hand, but he crossed his arms and angrily turned away from me. 

“I’m sorry, son. I didn’t mean to upset you,” I whispered.

“I hate it,” Charlie hissed.

He began mumbling words to himself, but I didn’t understand what he was saying. It was like he was back there, to wherever he had gone during his disappearance. 

“I won’t play it again, it was an accident. I promise.”

“Okay,” he muttered.

He wiped his eyes and sighed. 

What did they do to you, my child? What in the world did they do to you, Charlie? 

“Do you want to go home?” I asked gently. He shook his head. 

“No. I’ll watch the game.”

“Okay.”

Charlie got up by himself and started walking out alone.

“I’m not angry with you, Charlie. I know that this is a process,” I called out to him while I swiftly followed. He didn’t turn or show any indication that he had listened to me. He didn’t appear to care and I didn’t know what else to say. 

I was to blame. I remembered how much he hated playing Angel of Ice. The song was incredibly difficult and he had a lot of trouble with it. I began to second-guess myself, maybe I shouldn’t have pushed him as hard as I did. 

We made it to the basketball gym, it was packed. We navigated through the roaring, frenzied crowd and caught a few awkward glances along the way. Everyone in town knew about the boy who came back. It was just about the most exciting thing that had ever happened in Ebony Lake. As we searched for our seats we spotted Billy watching by himself in a corner spot. 

“Oh hey!” Billy said energetically. 

I tried to pretend like he was calling out to someone else, but it was too late. Our eyes had met. 

“Hey, nice to see you.” I lied.

“How’s Charlie boy, huh? What a miracle huh? A miracle!” Billy said a little too loud.

“Yeah, a miracle.”

Charlie looked uncomfortable, so I tried to speed us along.

“About the other day, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for it to get like that, Phoebe. Rodrick is a little rough around the edges, but he’s trying to do better. He is,” Billy said thoughtfully. 

“He did horrible things, Billy. You’re a better person than me,” I commented. 

“I guess I am,” Billy icily replied as we passed him.

What a wack job.

Insane theories whirled around the local forums online. There were discussions about Charlie and Kaya being swapped for experimentation, illegal cloning schemes, life insurance fraud, black market trafficking and more heinous operations. None of it made any sense except for the trafficking. Children typically never come back from something like that. It was mind-numbingly tragic, but it was the horrific truth. 

Charlie had been the exception, I only hoped that Kaya would be too. We sat down in the bleachers with Lucia. I convinced her to tag along. She needed a brief break from the craziness surrounding her daughter. I knew how much she wanted to find her daughter, but sometimes you had to take a breather or else you’d let it consume you. 

The Ebony Lake Eagles were facing a visiting opponent and I knew the game started when I heard Duncan yelling. 

“Have you ever been to a basketball game?” I asked her.

“Nah, never. I’m either working or with Kaya.”

She didn’t seem interested at all but I hoped she’d be able to get a breath of fresh air. I assumed she didn’t have many nights off at all. She worked six days a week, from sun up to sundown. After Kaya’s disappearance, she reduced her schedule. There wasn’t a need for her to work so much. After all, she was only doing it for her. 

“How are you doing?”

Lucia swallowed hard, hesitating to speak. I could tell a lot was on her mind and rightfully so. 

“There’s been this tension that’s been pulling at my insides like it’s trying to rip everything apart, that hasn’t gone away. I don’t think it ever will until I see her again,” Lucia said grimly. 

I briefly gripped her arm in solidarity. 

“We will find her. We just need to stay hopeful.”

“I don’t trust Rodrick Woodley or Billy Barnes anymore. What the hell was up with that? Why was Billy with him?” Lucia questioned. 

I had thought about it as well. Billy Barnes was a role model of a citizen. He helped his neighbors, he had a friendly smile and he volunteered at charitable community programs in Ebony Lake. He had also been a part of the search party that looked for Charlie when he initially went missing. So, I had no idea what he was doing with the likes of someone as vile as Rodrick. 

“Maybe some sort of mentorship program? Who knows? Billy likes helping people and I guess he wants to help rehabilitate him, if that’s even possible,” I speculated. 

“If he wants to rehabilitate himself, he should do it behind an ice-cold prison cell, forever,” Lucia stated firmly. She was right, someone like Rodrick deserved to die in prison, as harsh as that sounded. 

Charlie seemed to be paying close attention and enjoying the game. 

“Do you like watching the game, Charlie?” I asked. 

He glanced at me and shrugged. I guess that’s better than him freaking out on me. 

“Okay, I’ll take it,” I replied. 

“Has he said anything about Kaya?” Lucia whispered to me.

I gently shook my head. Unfortunately, he wasn’t in any state to talk about his disappearance or Kaya. If he knew anything it’d remain a mystery, unless he decided otherwise. 

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. It’s fine. Who knows what the poor kid went through, I feel for him.”

We watched as the young phenom Caffrey Fenix put on a show, as Duncan would say. He was getting through the players of the other team, got to the basket and scored with ease. 

“That’s Conrad’s son, right? The Marine?” Lucia asked.

“Yeah, that’s him, poor kid.”

“Push the ball! Push the ball! Push the tempo!”

“Stop them from passing the ball and scoring!”

Duncan shouted on the sidelines while Sully sat on the bench and chatted with the players. Duncan was more serious about coaching than Sully—he focused on developing relationships with the players. Caffrey was the exception for Duncan—he took him under his wing. 

The game ended up being a tight contest, with the Eagles narrowly achieving victory thanks to a couple of late-game baskets by Caffrey. After the game ended, we found our way out of the gym and outside near the parking lot. The team was celebrating their victory amongst themselves while we waited for Duncan to come out.

He always liked to gather all the stat sheets from all the games and organize them on his desk in the team’s locker room. I noticed that Caffrey was speaking to Sully and he looked worried. Sully listened intently and a smile did not creep out from those lips, not even once. That meant something very serious was happening. As soon as Duncan came out, Sully motioned for him to come over.

“Duncan! Come here, man.”

Duncan went over, I wasn’t sure what Caffrey had said, but his face immediately dropped when he spoke to Sully. Duncan scanned around for me and stared at me with pursed lips. He waved for me to come close. 

“Lucia, would you mind staying with Charlie for a second?”

“Not at all,” she said sweetly. 

Duncan, Sullivan and Caffrey headed to a secluded area near the baseball field to speak. I followed. From what I observed, Caffrey was a nervous wreck—his hands were shaking and he was sweating bullets, even after showering. 

“First of all, I just want to say sorry. I never said anything because I wanted to keep my head down. That’s on me. I just didn’t want any trouble and I didn’t want any problems,” Caffrey expressed. 

My chest tightened with anticipation. I wasn’t sure what Caffrey was about to say, but it sounded very troubling. 

“Hey man, it’s alright. You’re not in trouble. You can trust us,” Sullivan said to comfort him.

“What is it?” I whispered to Duncan. 

“Something about Charlie.” 

The feeling in my chest grew tighter and I began to worry. What did he know about Charlie?

“No way—Caffrey—you know something about Charlie’s disappearance?” I asked pointedly. 

Caffrey could barely look at me, but he softly nodded. I gasped and tried to keep calm. A shiver ran down my spine as I struggled to catch my breath. I couldn’t believe he knew something about Charlie and had kept quiet. I was at a loss for words.  

“You can tell us, son. The truth will set you free,” Sullivan reassured him. 

“So—I wanted to come forward because of Kaya’s disappearance. I felt like I had to and I didn’t want to go to the police—they failed me before with my dad and everything that went down with that,” Caffrey explained. He fished into his pocket and slowly walked over to me. He took a deep breath. He pulled out a crumpled piece of notebook paper and handed it to me. 

“This is for you. I’m so sorry I didn’t come forward sooner.”

I gently grabbed it and opened it. I saw that there was a combination of letters with numbers. I was confused. What did it mean? 

“These are…I don’t know—these are numbers and letters mixed, together. What is this Caffrey?”

I tried to examine it closer, but I wasn’t sure what I was supposed to decipher. 

“License plate numbers—they belong to a camouflaged van—the van that might’ve abducted Charlie,” Caffrey revealed. 

Everyone was dead silent. A palpable tension was thick in the night air. So thick it could only be cut with an axe. My head pounded, my hands became clammy and a cool trickle of sweat emanated from the back of my neck. I couldn’t believe what I had just heard. I didn’t even think I had heard him correctly. 

Was I to understand that Caffrey saw my son being taken and did—nothing? And said—nothing—to anyone?!

“What…what—what are you saying, Caffrey? Did you see my son that night?” I asked with a shaky voice. 

“I…I don’t know if it was him for sure, but I think it was.”

He looked utterly ashamed. Duncan, Sullivan and I exchanged shocked glances. We couldn’t believe it. Ebony Lake’s star basketball player had potential information regarding his coach’s missing son and said absolutely nothing until that night. 

“Caffrey, is this true?” Sullivan asked carefully. 

“It is coach. I saw a boy getting into that van that night, but I don’t know if it was him. Then the news broke. It was dark and rainy, then it started pouring while I was at the outdoor basketball court near Roy’s Square. I ran to a bus stop and took shelter. That’s when I saw someone running—he then stopped when the van drove up to him and was gone,” Caffrey revealed. 

I didn’t know whether to be sad, angry or thankful. The silver lining was that Charlie was no longer missing, but I wondered if he could’ve been found if Caffrey had told someone what he saw. What if he had returned sooner? What if we knew who had abducted him? Kaya’s abduction could’ve been prevented. 

“Jesus, Caffrey. You kept your mouth shut this whole time? Damn, kid,” Duncan muttered.

“It’s fine, it’s in the past. At least we know now. What else can we do?” Sullivan asked.

Duncan heavily sighed and I was still torn. I turned away from them because I needed a minute to think. At least I had a lead to check out, a camouflaged van along with the license plate numbers. I had work to do. 

“Thank you, Caffrey. I…I appreciate this,” I managed to say without losing my cool.  

I returned to Lucia who was awkwardly standing next to a very emotionless Charlie. 

“How are you guys doing?” I asked.

Charlie gave a brief thumbs up.

“Super,” Lucia replied. 

“Guess what Caffrey just told us?” I asked.

“What?”

I took a second to find the right words because I still didn’t fully believe what I had been told. 

“He saw the van—a camouflaged van that might’ve abducted Charlie that night,” I whispered.

Charlie gave me a knowing glance but kept quiet. That was all I needed to know to confirm the truth. He knew what I was referring to, but refused to say a word. 

“What? What are you talking about?” Lucia asked.

“Hold on.”

I gently took Charlie’s hand and led him to his father and uncle. I asked Duncan to watch him and take him home so I could speak with Lucia about the recent revelation from Caffrey. Duncan didn’t like hearing that one bit. 

“Do you think this is a good idea, pursuing this with Lucia?” Duncan asked.

“I have to do it, if there’s a chance I can find the people responsible for his abduction, I’m going to take it,” I declared. 

Duncan shook his head, he was exasperated. I could understand why, but I needed to know who took Charlie. I needed to look them in the eye and ask: “Why? Why did you take my boy?”

“It’s unsafe, you have no idea the people that are out there, the things they’re willing to do. Our son is safe now, why can’t you be happy with that?” Duncan asked frustratedly.  

Because I still hear his voice like he’s not here—like he’s still gone.

“I have to redeem myself, I failed him, Duncan. And I can’t live with that until I find justice for him and the truth about what happened in those three years,” I informed him. 

Duncan shrugged and shook his head. He was still against my idea, but Lucia was waiting for me in her car and I had to go. I rubbed Duncan’s shoulder affectionately and waved goodbye to Charlie. He gave me a melancholic grin. I made my way to Lucia’s car. 

“So, he saw a camouflaged van and this van might’ve taken Charlie while he was running away?” Lucia asked to clarify. 

“Yes, and I have the license plate numbers.”

“And he decided to stay quiet until now? Why?” Lucia asked. She was understandably dumbfounded. 

“He said he wanted to move forward after Kaya’s disappearance,” I said while I shrugged. I didn’t know how else to explain the situation. 

“He should’ve moved forward three years ago, but we can’t change the past,” Lucia sighed.

“We can’t, but we can find the person responsible for all of this anguish and suffering.”

“Jesus Christ, why would he ever stay quiet?”

“I’m not sure, he said he didn’t want any trouble. Maybe the poor kid was scared out of his mind because of his father,” I speculated.

“Conrad was a good man and a great father. What happened to him was horrific,” Lucia stated. 

“The police never did anything. I could understand why Caffrey wouldn’t trust them,” I snapped.

“They never found Charlie, they haven’t found Kaya and poor Conrad…we’re on our own.”

“At least we have these license plate numbers. Let’s see if we can find something.” I was determined to continue moving forward. We were given a new lead and I hoped it would point us in a new direction. 

We paid for an online program to look up license plate numbers to find the owners of the van. When we found out who the last owner was, we couldn’t believe it. 

“Rodrick Woodley. No fucking way,” Lucia remarked. 

I sat back in my seat and thought about our past experiences with him. He was a pedophile, a rude slob and officially a suspect on my list. 

“We have to talk to him again,” I muttered.

Can you hear the music? Can you hear it, Mom?

Charlie’s words echoed in my mind out of nowhere. I feared the strange voice would never escape my head.

CHAPTER 11

DUNCAN

MARCH (2015)

Icame home from yet another altercation with Jeffrey Ramos. Sully, Billy and I had to pull him away again. We heard Lucia shouting at him as he was begging for her forgiveness on her front lawn. When he started cursing, it was time to get him out of there. He never learned and I didn’t think that he ever would.

I was hoping to unwind but heard my wife teaching my son Charlie how to play the flute. She was being too strict with him again and what was worse, she was teaching him: Angel of Ice—a very difficult song. 

“You’re out of tune.”

“You came in too early.”

“You didn’t sound quite right.”

“Play it once more, you can do it!”

I could see it all on Charlie’s face, he didn’t want to be there but had been forced to. It was becoming a problem. There was a lot of tension growing between Charlie and his mother, but Phoebe was too blind to see it. 

“I’m trying Mom, it’s hard!” Charlie expressed.

“I know sweetie, but you got this, I believe in you!” 

“Can I take a break? Please?” 

Phoebe looked hesitant but gave in and nodded. I blew a sigh of relief. 

“Okay honey, yes. That’s fine.”

Charlie put down the instrument and sped away to his bedroom. I walked over and rubbed Phoebe’s shoulder as I searched for her downcast eyes hidden beneath a fallen curl of hair. I loved my wife and I knew she meant well, but sometimes I couldn’t stand the way she acted with Charlie. 

Perhaps I was envious because he preferred music to basketball, or perhaps it reminded me of my cold-hearted father who wouldn’t bother with me at all. My father was like a ghost in my house. Sometimes I wished he’d yell at me, just so he’d show me he cared. 

“Phoebes, you’re like a drill sergeant. You should lay off of him a bit. He’s only a kid,” I urged.

“He needs to learn the right way because that’s the way he’ll become a great musician. I’m teaching him the same way my father taught me: He controlled the process because he knew what he was doing—and he always had good intentions.”

The road to hell is paved with good intentions. 

“You don’t think—and I’m not saying this is the case at all, but do you think it might be considered borderline abuse?” I asked cautiously.

Phoebe didn’t take that well at all. I questioned myself as to why I even said that, to begin with. She sharply shrugged my hand off her back and glared at me.

“What the hell are you talking about? I love my son more than anything in the world. I would never subject him to something that would be considered abuse. I work with children, Duncan. Jesus, that is incredibly hurtful. Is that what you think of me?” Phoebe asked.

I swallowed the lump in my throat and tried to roll back what I had said. I didn’t think it was abuse. I knew she was a wonderful mother. I was taking my frustrations with Charlie out on her. 

“No, of course not. I just wonder if this is what he wants sometimes. That’s all,” I said softly. 

“Charlie loves music, Duncan. It’s what he wants, that’s why he plays music. It’s in his blood.” 

“Alright, I’ll leave it at that.” I held up my hands to surrender. I could’ve continued to argue with her but it wouldn’t have done any good. At the end of the day, she was going to believe what she wanted to believe. It wasn’t necessarily a bad thing, it was the truth. 

“Thank you.”

Phoebe grinned and leaned over to kiss me, on the cheek. I allowed her to do so, but I very nearly pulled away. I was still a bit resentful over the whole ordeal, but I chose to stay quiet. I just needed to be a man, like my father always said. What kind of man wouldn’t allow his wife to kiss him? 

“Looks like Jeffrey Ramos was cursing out Lucia again,” I informed her. I decided to change the subject. 

“My god, is she okay? What the hell is wrong with that man?” Phoebe’s hands immediately went to her chest, that’s how she expressed grave concern. She wasn’t very close with Lucia, but they were still friendly neighbors. Lucia’s daughter was also good friends with Charlie. They bonded over being mothers. 

“She is now, thankfully. We handled it—again.”

I walked to the kitchen and got myself a beer out of the fridge. I popped it open and took a sip. 

“I’m worried about Sully by the way. He’s doing some project and won’t tell me about it—it’s bizarre.”

Phoebe gave me a curious look. 

“What is it? Is it related to basketball?”

“That’s the thing, I don’t know. I don’t think it is, otherwise he’d tell me, but he’s being all secretive about it. I don’t know if he’s screwing with me or what.”

I shrugged and placed my beer down on the counter. 

“Knowing your brother, that could be the case.”

“It’s just…something’s off about this. I don’t know,” I muttered.

Phoebe came around and gave me a warm embrace.

“It’ll be okay, at the end of the day your brother’s a good guy. Right?”

“Best guy I know,” I responded truthfully. 

Sully was my big brother and everything I could ever want in an older brother. He was warm, loving and a nuisance in my everyday life. He was everything our father wasn’t. 

I saw Sully almost every day in the school’s gym, we coached the Ebony Lake Academy basketball team together. I was excited about the current season. The future of Ebony Lake basketball looked promising due to our star player: Caffrey Fenix. He was young, but he played like a seasoned veteran. He glided through the gym like an acrobat, drove through the lane like a bulldozer and shot jumpers that sailed through the net like a feather. He was one of a kind, raised by Conrad, a father who was built from the same cloth. 

Sully and I watched Caffrey as he actively fine-tuned his jump shot, fixing it like he had already played the game for 10 years. 

“Caffrey’s gonna take us all the way, I can feel it,” I mentioned.

“We have to protect him. There’s gonna be a lot of attention on him once people see what he can do,” Sully replied. 

“We’ll do what needs to be done.”

Conrad Fenix came over in uniform, he had a big smile on his face. Sully gave him a strong handshake. I made sure to show respect to the retired Marine as well and did the same as Sully. 

“Sully, I wanted to thank you for looking after my boy. He says you’re the best coach he’s got—you too, Duncan. He says you guys know what you’re talking about,” Conrad said.

I almost bowed before him, but that would’ve been a bit over the top. Still, it was an honor coaching Caffrey, his son. 

“Thank you, sir. I try my best. I’m happy we get to coach someone as talented as your son,” I said earnestly. 

Conrad placed his hand on Sully’s shoulder. 

“Sully, thanks again for helping me out with that incident. Frickin' ridiculous man. They love to drag a man down for no reason. You want to know why that happens?—Boredom! These folks are bored to death! They need to come down and watch some basketball!” Conrad expressed. 

Sully laughed, nodding in agreement. My face showed that I was perplexed. I was in the dark—I had no idea what they were talking about. 

“What happened? If I may ask.”

“No need to be formal, Duncan. We’re friends. Sully can tell you,” Conrad replied.

“A neighbor complained that he was smoking dope and doing poppers, but it was a complete lie.”

Conrad passionately wagged his finger and shook his head. 

“A complete lie! I don’t touch that shit!”

“Conrad is justifiably angry. He was just outside his own house, listening to his old radio. He’s an old cat, like you.” Sully smirked. 

I scoffed at that. He never wasted an opportunity to mock me. 

“I’m not a cat,” I mumbled.

“Not an actual cat, diphthong,” Sully cackled. I rolled my eyes.

No matter how old we got, we were like kids, bickering and name-calling each other just to get on each other’s nerves—probably a true mark of being siblings. 

“It’s probably some old white lady named Karen who doesn’t have anything better to do! I’m sorry, I’m still upset,” Conrad said.

“You have every right to be. You were accused of doing drugs in public. That’s not okay. I told Billy and he got it under control. He’s president of the community watch or whatever the hell it’s called.”

“RPL,” Conrad chimed in. 

“Right, that thing. I forget. I don’t even know what it stands for,” Sully commented. 

“Renaissance People League?” I asked.

Sully turned to me with a gaping mouth. 

“Seriously?” Sully looked at me and heartily chuckled.

“Just a guess.” I shrugged. I hadn’t heard of the RPL. 

“That’s alright. It’s new,” Conrad answered. 

I stepped to the side and blew my whistle. I made the hand motion that had them performing shooting drills. 

“You deserve more respect than that. Not only because you served in the Marines, but because you’re a good man with strong family values.”

“Don’t get dramatic, Duncan,” Sully responded.

“No, man. I’m serious, it’s not okay. We know why they did it. We fucking know the reason why.”

They both solemnly nodded. 

“I know.” Sully agreed. 

“Don’t worry about it too much, guys. I’ve dealt with it before and I’ll deal with it now,” Conrad said gently. He sighed and then walked back to a seat in the bleachers. 

“Fuckin’ ridiculous,” I spat out.

“Trust me, I know. There are bad people in this town who seek to do evil.”

There he was mentioning “evil.” I wished he told me what he had been referring to—something that made sense. 

“What did Billy even do?” I asked. 

“He told me he’d look into it—the complaint.”

“That means he’ll do nothing,” I snapped.

“It’ll come out soon enough, little brother.”

Sully grabbed his clipboard from the bench and began scribbling notes.

“What will?”

“Everything. I promise.”

“Jeffrey?” I asked.

Sully scoffed and shook his head. 

“Jeffrey is a statistic. He’s nothing compared to the grand scheme of it all.” Sully’s eyes looked off in the distance. It made me wonder if he had been crazy before the horrible incident. 

“What grand scheme?” I asked with intensity in my voice. 

I was tired of the secrecy and I wanted answers from my brother. I wanted to know what the hell he was up to—I deserved to know. 

“You’ll be in danger if I tell you. Better that I don’t,” Sully whispered.

“Are you on that ‘medication’ again?” I asked quietly. 

Sully laughed and brushed it off. He shook his head.

“I don’t take shit anymore man. I haven’t for a while.”

I wasn’t sure I believed him. He had abused poppers for so long. 

“I only ask because I care and worry about you. I know how tough it was after Dad left us.”

Sully softly grabbed my shoulder and looked at me directly in the eye.

“You don’t need to worry about me. If I need help, I’ll let you know. I swear it on my life.”

I nodded and stayed quiet. Our father didn’t offer us much growing up, but when he suddenly left one day, it still stung. It hurt Sully the most. He got hooked on poppers because it made him feel better, but it gave him serious mental side effects. It impacted his memory and made him do things he otherwise wouldn’t do. That’s why I asked if he was on them again because he had done “projects” before. 

Once, he tried to get rid of a gang of bikers at a bar in town by toppling their motorcycles. He almost got killed that day. Another time, he threatened to beat a bank manager with a club, but he had good reason to: He wouldn’t give our mother an extension on the mortgage payment—our father had left us in the dust. 

I didn’t understand it, but he turned into a wannabe vigilante, it was the strangest thing. He often told me that since our dad was never a hero, he needed to be his own. I guess that explained that. 

Sully needed a favor since his car wasn’t working. He wanted me to drop him off at a billiards bar called: 8-Ball. It was in a shopping mall with some other establishments around: An Asian buffet, a hair salon, a warehouse, an office complex, an old retro gaming arcade and a couple of laundromats. I suspected they were used to launder money. 

Years later I learned that some middle-class residents laundered money for a criminal group in a town a few hours away from Ebony Lake. It was an insane news story.

I parked out front and Sully thanked me for the ride. 

“What are you doing here so late?” I asked.

“Hanging out with friends, that’s all,” Sully replied casually. 

“Alright man, be safe.”

I backed out of the parking space and drove away. I decided not to leave and parked near a bush on the far side of the lot. I turned off my lights and kept my eye on him as he waited outside. He checked his watch and waited. 

“What the hell are you up to, lard boy?” I asked myself. 

I swore that if he was there to meet someone for drugs, I’d rush out of the car and drag his ass back home. My question was soon answered. Billy Barnes, a couple of bummy-looking, skinhead twins and a large man met up with him. They all happily greeted each other appearing to be close friends. I had no idea Sully had other friends. Maybe Billy, but that was a stretch. He was just a neighbor. 

Just as they were about to go inside, Jeffrey came flying out of nowhere and punched Billy in the face. My seatbelt came flying off and I sprinted to them. When I arrived, they had Jeffrey pinned down. He was rabid and ferocious,  wriggling like a madman to go free. 

“I know what you’re up to! You’re a bunch of screwy bastards! I want in! I want in on the money! Don’t hang me out to dry!”

The large man grabbed his face and head-butted him. Jeffrey shut his mouth as his nose started bleeding. 

“Ow! Ow! That’s assault! That’s assault!” Jeffrey cried. 

“You assaulted me first, let’s call it even. Huh, buddy?” Billy smiled while rubbing his face.

“Duncan? What are you doing here?” Sully asked.

Jeffrey managed to break out and ran off while clutching his nose—the twins almost went after him. 

“No, leave him be.”

They both crossed their arms, disappointed that they couldn’t give chase. They were both very muscular, and dangerous-looking men with plenty of tattoos. They honestly looked like Billy’s hired muscle. 

“I saw the fight, I just wanted to make sure you were okay,” I told Sully.

“Yeah, I’m cool man. Billy’s the one who got slugged.”

Billy couldn’t help but laugh. 

“That is very true, but thank you, Duncan. Your efforts are appreciated,” Billy said cheerfully. 

“What the hell was his problem?” I asked.

“He’s just mad we caught him terrorizing his former lover—he’s a son of a bitch—don’t worry about him too much,” Sully declared.

Sully waved him off dismissively. Before I could inquire further, Billy’s face appeared right in front of me. He was so close I could smell his minty breath.  

“He’s also a known drug addict. Poppers, you know? He loves the stuff. It makes someone irrational and prone to sudden outbursts of anger,” Billy explained. 

“That explains it,” I replied. 

“We’re going to head inside, we have some billiards to play,” Billy announced. 

He went inside along with everyone else. I stood alone with Sully.

“What are you doing here with them? You’re not even friends with them,” I pleaded.

“They’re alright, just people to hang with once in a while. Don’t be so uptight, you need friends man.”

“I know. I just—I don’t know.”

Sully pulled me in and hugged me tight. I reciprocated. 

“I love you, bro. It’s okay to say that out loud, you know? I know our daddy never did. He was a frickin’ robot. We can be different, we can be better.”

I agreed. I believed we could be better than he ever was.

“I know.”

“I’ll see you at practice.”

Sully went inside and I was still left wondering what he was doing with those people. I wondered what Jeffrey meant by saying that he knew what they were up to and how he wanted in. Into what? What the hell was going on in Ebony Lake?

Could Jeffrey’s words even be trusted? He was a known addict and a violent abuser. Still, it made my mind wander. It led me to a line of thought that wondered if something terrible was happening, right under my nose. If that were the case, I had no idea what it was and no clue how to stop it.

CHAPTER 12

PHOEBE

PRESENT DAY

We were waiting in the parking lot of the auto shop where Rodrick worked. It was a dinky area and the most popular business was an old billiards place called: 8-Ball. 

We watched him as he walked in and out of the car garage where he worked. It sat adjacent to a warehouse. 

“When we go inside, I’m gonna find a wrench and I’m gonna rip his teeth out with it,” Lucia stated.

“No, you’re not.”

“Try and stop me.”

“Lucia, we need to talk with him first.”

“He did it. He kidnapped my daughter and your son. We have the proof.”

“It’s circumstantial. I’m sure there’s more to the story,” I replied. 

She cracked her knuckles like she was a professional fighter. 

“I’ll circumstantially bend his neck with a tire iron,” Lucia muttered. 

I rolled my eyes, smirking. She was filled with a belly of fire. I admired her for it, but her impulsive nature was going to get her killed. I needed to make sure that didn’t happen. I knew she was a strong woman I just didn’t need her to prove that to everyone we crossed paths with. 

“Are we gonna go?”

“Hold on.”

I stopped her from unbuckling her seatbelt as Billy Barnes walked across from an office complex. He walked over to the car garage to speak with Rodrick. 

“Why the hell is Billy talking with: ‘Creepzilla?’ ” Lucia asked.

I tried to read Rodrick’s lips, but he was too far away. 

“Good question, I don’t have a clue.”

“Why do I get the feeling they’re plotting something?” Lucia asked.

It was so strange—the two of them together. It felt like they had something going on. Whether it was sinister or not—that was the question. 

“I don’t know, but something’s off. You’re right.”

Billy shook hands with him and went on his way. He soon walked out of our line of sight.  

“Go time, baby,” Lucia whispered.

I heard something cock, and swiveled my head towards Lucia to see that she had a gun in her hand. 

“Oh no.” I gasped.

“Oh yes.”

“No, no, no,” I urged.

“Yes, yes, yes,” Lucia replied with an imaginary devil on her shoulder. 

“No gun, Lucia. C’mon now. What the hell do you think we’re walking into? A shoot-out? We’re not cops.”

Lucia groaned and reluctantly placed it in the glove compartment. 

“Alright, fine. I won’t bring it.”

The sight of that gun had me nauseous. I didn’t want her to use it on anyone. I didn’t want to get to that point of no return. What I hadn’t realized was that I already crossed that line. 

“You’re raising my blood pressure.”

“You’ll be fine.”

“We’ll see about that.”

I got out of the car, and Lucia followed. We carefully strolled over to the open garage and spotted Rodrick fishing tools out of a toolbox. It smelled like gas and burning metal. Rodrick was in his mechanic’s outfit, he was smeared with black stains from head to toe. He noticed us and sighed. 

“What do you want now?” he asked. 

I took a deep breath and pulled out a printout of the license plate numbers from the camouflaged van. I stepped forward.

“You owned a camouflaged van with these license plate numbers. We checked the records, we saw your name, you can’t deny it. So don’t even try.”

“Don’t even fucking try it,” Lucia echoed. 

Rodrick slowly looked it over. He glanced at Lucia, then at me. He stared at the floor and scoffed. I had no time to react as he swung hard at me, slamming me across the head with a closed fist. I collapsed to the ground as my legs flew up in the air. He caught me so off guard, I remained in shock for a few seconds. My head throbbed and my ears rang. 

From the corner of my eye, I saw him throwing the toolbox at Lucia as he tried to escape. She dodged it as it sailed past her—it loudly clanked on the floor with all the metal tools falling out. Rodrick stopped dead in his tracks with his hands held high when Lucia pointed a gun at him—she had brought it with her after all. 

There was incoherent yelling as I came to. I slowly got up and gripped my head as it pounded with pain. It felt like someone had cracked my skull open with a hammer. I wiped the tears that dripped from my eyes to clear my vision. I tumbled to Lucia’s side. 

“Don’t move or I’ll shoot you in your damn head,” Lucia ferociously warned him. 

Rodrick remained still, until he suddenly lunged forward, attempting to snatch the gun from Lucia’s hand. Lucia pulled back and whipped his face with the gun. He quickly grabbed his nose which started to bleed. 

“Ow! That fucking hurt, bitch!” Rodrick cried out. 

“Good. You rotund, child molesting dick ball,” Lucia snapped.

Lucia certainly had a way with words. My ears stopped ringing and my head began to clear. 

“Rotund?” Rodrick wheezed.

“I thought I said no gun.”

We glanced at one another, giving each other subtle smirks. We both knew that Lucia bringing the gun had saved our skins. 

“I’m no good at listening, ma’am.” It was a good thing she wasn’t. 

Lucia pressed the button to shut the garage door and flickered on a light. 

“You’re closed,” she commanded. 

“Dumb bitch,” Rodrick hissed.

“I’ll hit you again, and this time, it’ll be your eyes.”

Rodrick turned away and grimaced. He didn’t want to get smashed in the face again. 

“May I take the gun?” I asked politely. 

“Why?” Lucia didn’t want to give it up. 

“Please, trust me.”

“Okay. Fine, I trust you.”

She handed it over to me and I weighed it in my hand. I stormed over to Rodrick and shoved the barrel in his mouth while clenching his throat. A surge of heat rose in my stomach, I was enraged.

“I’m not messing around anymore, Rodrick. Do you understand that?” I asked coldly. Not a single ounce of sympathy was present in my voice. 

Rodrick whined and nodded emphatically. 

“When I let go, you’re going to tell me why you took my boy all those years ago. You’re also going to tell me why you released him after three years and why you replaced him with Kaya. Okay? You’re going to tell us everything, or there’s going to be very grave consequences for you. If you lie, I’ll know,” I threatened. I knew that he didn’t have the nerve to question me on that. 

“I thought I was the crazy bitch,” Lucia called out. 

I stifled a laugh. 

“I can be one too when I need to be.”

I yanked the gun out of his mouth and let go of his throat. I paced back and forth as he coughed horribly. I looked away as he spat out blood. He attempted to catch his breath while wiping blood from his mouth and nose. 

“You two are psycho,” Rodrick wheezed. 

“A mother tends to be psycho when it comes to the safety of her child. You’d understand if you had any. You don’t know how far I’ll go to get justice for my son. He deserves it after all the pain and trauma he suffered through. Three years of his life were robbed from him. For no good reason and I’m fucking pissed about it!” 

I kicked the toolbox that was on the floor as hard as I could. I glanced at Lucia who seemed afraid. I gave her a hint of a smile. I was just letting out some pent-up frustrations. 

“I am too,” Lucia whispered. 

“So, what is it, Rodrick? What happened to our children?”

“If you tell us, maybe I’ll get you a crunchy cheese wrap with ball shavings on the side. I’d get the shavings from yours,” Lucia offered. 

Rodrick coughed and shook his head. 

“You don’t know anything. I sold that van to Jeffrey Ramos, three months before Charlie was taken. I didn’t take Charlie. If anyone had anything to do with that—it was Jeffrey.”

CHAPTER 13

DUNCAN

JULY (2015)

Basketball tournaments during the summer were the greatest events in the world for me. There were no classes and I had the chance to strictly focus on coaching basketball for a whole three months. That summer in 2015 was different though. It wasn’t the usual source of joy for me.

That summer we had the Woodbine Summer Classic. We were prepping for the semi-final game at home and Caffrey had been playing his heart out the entire tournament. The kid was an absolute star. I had been working with him on his 3-point shot, and we started working on how to score near the basket over defenders. He was adding new skills to his offense, and I couldn’t be prouder. 

Selfishly, I wished it had been my son, but I knew it was horrible to think that way. I just couldn’t help but think if it were him. What if Charlie had chosen basketball instead of music? Would I have been able to bond with him better? It felt like the same relationship I had with my father. If we had something in common, I believed, things would’ve turned out differently. We would’ve bonded as father and son. 

I didn’t want to give Charlie the cold shoulder, by any means, but I found it difficult to talk with him. The only way I knew how to be a parent, came from my father. It was all messed up and twisted. I thought it was the correct way because I didn’t know any better. 

I was in the office in the boy’s locker room to go over my game plans. I liked to draw them up on my clipboard with a marker and I used a miniature model of the basketball court to scribble on. All the players had gone to the court to warm up. I quietly exited the office and spotted Sully in the locker room’s bathroom. He was in the stall, I could tell by looking at his white sports sneakers. 

I slowly walked over and tried to hear what he was doing. 

I better not hear anything weird.

When I didn’t hear anything, I yanked the door open—thankfully, it had a faulty lock. And there he was—gripping an empty bottle of pills—breathing heavily and smiling at me like a big ol’ idiot. I wanted to slap the shit out of him. When he dropped the bottle, it clanked onto the floor. I swiftly scooped it up and threw it away. 

I softly tugged him out by his shirt while he held his hands up. 

“C’mon man, just chill out.”

I was fuming. It wasn’t the first time he was being irresponsible.

“Why the hell are you taking that? What’s the matter with you?! We have a game right now! A semi-final game! Are you fucking crazy, or what?!”

Sully’s eyes rolled to the back of his head, he started rocking back and forth. I couldn’t believe he would sabotage us right before one of the biggest games of the year. 

“Sully, are you serious right now? I’ll kick you in the balls—I swear I’m gonna kick your ass.”

Sully’s eyes rolled back and he became still. He started laughing in my face. He had been joking, like the absolute idiot he was.

“You’re an asswipe—that’s not funny! What the hell are you taking?” I asked sternly. 

“Relax, bud. It’s something for the anxiety. They’re poppers. You just pop ‘em in your mouth.”

I couldn’t remember if he had mentioned them to me before. Sometimes he would joke so much, I wouldn’t pay attention to some of the things he’d talk about. 

“Is that legal?”

“Obviously. You don’t think I’m a criminal, do you?”

I exited the stall and rubbed my head. 

“No.”

“Then?” Sully asked.

I gave him a thoughtful look—I felt bad about yelling at him. He wasn’t a bad person. 

“I know how it was after Dad left, that’s all. I remember how it affected you.”

Sully sighed and hung his head.

“Boo hoo us, huh? Daddy never loved us.”

Sully shook his head and placed his fist against the door—sometimes he would do that to imagine himself punching it. 

“Yeah,” I muttered.

“Don’t worry, if I turn into a full-fledged drug addict I’ll send you a memo.”

I glanced at him, he was sticking his tongue out at me, I couldn’t help but laugh. 

“You’re gonna give me a brain aneurysm.”

“Jeez man, don’t say that. You’re gonna give yourself one with all the stress you bring upon yourself. Just let it go, man, let it go to the wind.”

Sully was too flippant. He needed to be more serious. 

“I can’t. I care too much about this team. I want to win.” I pursed my lips and raised my fist to the sky. No matter what, I cared about that team. Even if they thought of me as a grumpy grandpa. 

“Let’s go win then.”

As we walked out of the locker room, Sully took out a music speaker and started playing: Angel of Ice as we waltzed into the gym. 

“Please turn that off,” I said crankily.

“We can’t win without it,” Sully argued.

“Yes, we absolutely can.”

Sully raised the volume, I covered my ears. 

“Don’t care.”

“I’m reporting you to the Woodbine Summer Classic moderation league.”

Sully threw his head back in uproarious laughter. He never took me seriously. 

“I don’t think I’ve ever feared for my life more than just now,” Sully mocked. 

We took our places near our bench and watched on as our players made a line and took turns shooting the ball to the basket. The gym was jam-packed. Sully’s family was in the crowd, his wife Gina along with their twin children, Carina and Carson. My wife Phoebe and Charlie were in the audience as well. It was nice to see both of our families supporting us. Caffrey ran up to us, giving us fist bumps. 

“You good, man? How are the nerves?” I asked.

“I’m good. Where’s my dad? He should be here,” Caffrey mentioned. 

“He’ll be here, he’s running late. Your mother’s here, Katherine right?”

“Yeah, she’s here.”

“All set then,” I said. 

“Alright cool. Let’s win this shit!” Caffrey shouted.

“Caffrey, language!” I reprimanded.

“Yeah, let’s win this shit!” Sully yelled. 

The team went into a frenzy and cheered. 

“I’ll just keep my mouth shut,” I mumbled. 

Caffrey had his best-ever tournament performance that summer. He scored 27 points and had 13 rebounds. A double-double. The Ebony Lake Eagles shut out the Briarstone Brigadiers by 21 points. After the victory, we celebrated outside by eating hotdogs and hamburgers from the tournament-sponsored food trucks.

Sully stuffed his face with a hotdog. This hotdog was layered with ketchup, mustard, mayo, relish, onions, cheese and pickled chips. While eating it, he told me that we had won because of one single thing:

“We won because of the song. Angel of Ice, baby. Admit it, bitch!”

“Don’t call me a bitch, and we didn’t win because of that song. We won because of our hard work as a team, and because of Caffrey’s incredible performance.”

“The song helped.”

“It didn’t.”

“Yup.”

“Just eat your damn hotdog, lard boy.”

“Pull my finger.”

“Go to hell.”

I went up to Caffrey who was alone, looking around. 

“Not hungry, bud? I’ll get you something, whatever you want.”

“Nah, I’m not hungry. My mom left in a hurry. I don’t know what’s up. My dad never showed.”

“That is a little strange. I can take you home.”

“Yeah, please?”

“Of course, I got you, man. Anything for the superstar.”

As we got to the neighborhood, it was eerily quiet. Something was off. I just assumed that everyone was at the school for the tournament, but I had a knotted feeling in my stomach that refused to go away. When we got to Caffrey’s home, he started breathing heavily. 

I saw what he saw and immediately hit the brakes. He jumped out of the car and stood frozen in the middle of the street. I slowly got out, my legs were shaking. My mind wasn’t able to comprehend what I was seeing. It felt like an axe had split me in half from the top of my head, all the way down. All the air in my body had been sucked out. 

“No,” I whispered to myself. It couldn’t be. I refused to believe it. It didn’t make any sense. 

Caffrey and I were silently watching Katherine—Caffrey’s mother, as she held Conrad’s body soaked in blood. It was a tragic sight—one I’d never thought I’d see in my lifetime. She glanced at us with tear-filled eyes and quietly sobbed. 

“They murdered him! They murdered Conrad! They murdered my husband!” Katherine wailed. Katherine’s voice pierced through the air like a siren. 

“No. Why? Why would they do this? Who did this? Who’s responsible?” I softly asked myself. 

I mustered up all the strength I had and dragged my feet to Caffrey. I knelt and turned him around. I stared into the sad, grief-stricken and traumatized eyes of a child who had just lost his father to a horrific crime that he wouldn’t forget for as long as he lived. I then pulled him into my arms and hugged him as tightly as I could. 

I didn’t understand it, and neither did he. It was a shocking moment that had reverberated throughout the entire town. Conrad had been a good man and a good father. A man who had diligently served his country. A man who did not deserve to be murdered so ruthlessly and mercilessly. 

He deserved to see his son grow up, he deserved to grow old with his wife—all had been taken from him by a cruel force that held no sympathy or kindness for his fellow man. It was a deranged, twisted work of pure evil. 

“Don’t look, Caffrey. Don’t look. Whatever you do, don’t look.”

CHAPTER 14

PHOEBE

PRESENT DAY

After Rodrick gave us the revelation that he had sold the van to Jeffrey he managed to confirm the sale. It hadn’t been very official so that’s why Jeffrey’s name hadn’t shown up on the records. That’s what you would expect of someone like him.

We had an uneasy truce with Rodrick as we stormed out of the auto shop. On one hand, we had technically assaulted an innocent man, but he had hit me first. He was hiding something, we just didn’t know what it was yet. We were sure that we’d see him again. Billy, Rodrick, Jeffrey, even the twins…these men were connected to something sinister, something secret and I’d make damn sure that we’d reveal whatever evil they were embroiled in. 

We returned to Skippers in hopes of seeing Jeffrey again. The cold air punched my face with a pungent mixture of sweat, alcohol and vinyl—how I missed that horrid smell. 

Funnily enough, it made me think of having a drink—I put a pin in that. We surveyed the entire establishment, but he wasn’t there. We asked a few drunkards and bartenders, but no one had seen him for some time. 

He was a regular so that was shocking. Lucia almost busted into the men’s bathroom, but a patron assured her he wasn’t in there—Jeffrey liked to piss outside. As the guy started checking out Lucia from head to toe, I dragged her away before she broke another man’s nose in that place. I was surprised that we hadn’t been banned. 

Lucia immediately stomped outside to give him a call and harshly dialed his number on her smartphone. I followed. She put him on speaker and motioned for me to listen in with her.

“Hey! Where are you? We need to talk,” Lucia commanded. 

“What the hell do you want, Lucia?” Jeffrey shouted. 

“Busy taking poppers?” 

He was probably taking them instead of worrying about his daughter. 

“Mind your own business, I do whatever the hell I want,” Jeffrey whined. 

“You haven’t called even once to ask about your daughter.”

“Your problem, not mine. You lost her. Great job, hypocrite. Who’s the fuck-up now?” 

Lucia tightly squeezed her phone and clenched her jaw in rage. I knew she wanted to smash it against the concrete, but I gripped her shoulder and shook my head. She exhaled a deep breath she probably didn’t know she was holding and calmed herself down. 

“Listen to me—and listen to me closely because it concerns our daughter—the one you don’t care about. Rodrick Woodley sold you a camouflaged van in the past, is this correct?” 

I truly wondered if Jeffrey would even tell the truth because all signs pointed to him lying. He had nothing to gain from telling the truth, but I wanted to be proven wrong. 

“I want $1K for the information I have. Nothing more, nothing less, and I’m not going to give it to you for free. I don’t care what you say, I don’t care if you guilt trip me or make yourself a victim. $1K in cash for the information.”

Dead silence weighed in the air. Lucia dropped the phone to her hip and shook her head. She couldn’t believe what Jeffrey had demanded, and I couldn’t either. He wanted $1K to give us information that could potentially save his daughter. My heart raged for Lucia—as a wife and mother—I couldn’t believe how cruel and greedy he was. It wasn’t fair, not in the slightest, but it was the reality of the situation. 

Lucia raised the phone to her mouth and paused before speaking—she closed her eyes and took a deep breath. I knew it was hard for her, to not give in to her anger. She could’ve shouted and cursed him out, but she wanted Kaya back. That’s all she wanted and she seemed willing to act patiently with her deranged ex-lover to achieve that. 

“Okay, you know I don’t have that. I have $500. After I find Kaya, I’ll work towards getting you the other half. Is that okay?” 

Jeffrey took his time answering—he knew time was of the essence—and that she was desperate. I wanted to strangle him through the phone myself. 

“I mean, I guess it’s okay. You need to bring the cash in person though. No frickin’ deal if you start playing around with me. Don’t try to play me. I won’t give you shit. You hear me?”

Lucia rolled her eyes at me. I motioned for her to keep it rolling, we needed to hear what he had to say. We had no other choice. 

“I have the money. Where do you want to meet?”

“At the corner of Eastwood and Marble. See you there.”

He hung up. Lucia put her phone away. She was silently seething. 

“That little rat fucker,” Lucia muttered. 

“Do you think he knows about the van or he’s blowing smoke up my ass?”

“He better or I’ll smash his teeth in.”

A thought ran across my mind, a fleeting one. A certain possibility about Kaya’s disappearance and how strange it had been. I thought about the reasons why someone would take a child like that. One instance was sexual, which was horrid and I wished with every fiber of my being that that was not the case with her. I hoped she was well and safe—wherever she was. 

The second instance was money—whether it was trafficking or kidnapping. 

I wondered if Jeffrey had Kaya in his possession and was just biding his time. Perhaps he wanted to get a ransom for her all along. 

“Do you think Jeffrey has Kaya?” I asked suddenly. 

Lucia was taken aback and remained blank for a few seconds. She was thinking of the possibility and didn’t immediately dismiss it. 

“I don’t know—shit—maybe he does have her, maybe he wanted money all this time and she’s his hostage,” Lucia offered.

I didn’t think the idea was so crazy since Lucia had the same one. Maybe her abduction wasn’t as complex as I had initially thought. 

“That’s what I was thinking. What if Jeffrey wanted money for poppers and he got desperate? It’s a horrible thing to say, but drug addicts can get real irrational when they want a fix.”

Jeffrey would of course have to flee from town if that were the case. We’d call the police and he’d get caught relatively quickly. Ebony Lake was a small town, which made it even stranger that there were no leads when it came to the disappearance of Charlie and Kaya. Something was amiss and it frightened me as we got closer to the truth. Did Jeffrey take Charlie all those years ago?

“It’s possible, but that wouldn’t explain Charlie’s disappearance. He was gone for three years and then came back out of thin air. No suspects, no demands for hostage money and no trace of where he came from. It’s insane!” Lucia exclaimed.

“We just have to dig deeper then, and we have to see what Jeffrey has to say.”

Lucia nodded, and rolled her shoulders back, tilting her head to the sky. 

“After Kaya went missing, it feels like time has slowed down. It feels like she’s been gone a year,” Lucia sighed. I understood what she meant. Who else would understand her better than me? Every day that Charlie was gone felt like months. It tugged at my insides until it slowly began shredding me apart and tearing me into tiny pieces. 

Finding Kaya was not only about helping a neighbor and a friend, it was about finding justice for Charlie. It was about piecing myself back together and allowing myself to become whole again after the fatal mistakes I had made. I’d only save myself once I saved Charlie from whatever mental abyss he was dragged into. 

“I could use a drink. You?” I asked, managing a half smile. 

Lucia glanced at Skippers and gave a thumbs up. 

“Screw it, we’re already here.”

Our footsteps made a crunching sound on the parking lot floor as we went back inside. Duncan called me on the way in and I answered. He was wondering where I was and I didn’t want to tell him I was at the bar. I didn’t want him to think I was alone, drinking my sorrows away. 

“I’m still trying to find the truth of it all, honey.”

There was a pause—Duncan wanted to muster up the will to say something contentious, something I didn’t want to hear. 

“Are you sure that’s such a good idea?” 

I sat on a barstool alongside Lucia, she ordered our drinks. I politely held up my finger so that’d she give me a minute. 

“You already know why I’m doing this. Don’t try to talk me out of it,” I declared.

I heard Charlie’s voice in the background and Duncan told him he’d be with him shortly. My heart dropped and all of my pain came rushing back. The searing, suffocating pain that came with his long absence from our lives. 

“How is he? Is Charlie okay?” I asked worriedly. 

“Yeah, he’s good. Listen, I just think you’d be better off if you were home. Our son is here after being gone for three whole years. I’m just…why aren’t you home with our son? Am I crazy?” Duncan asked exasperated. 

He wasn’t. It was a perfectly logical question, but I took great offense to it. Why? Because I was in my head. I had already decided what I needed to do for my son. He was trying to make me doubt my decision and naturally, it made me upset. 

“I need to know what happened and why it happened. I won’t stop until I know. We’re going to talk to Jeffrey Ramos, he has information.”

“Jeffrey Ramos? Why the hell would you guys speak with him? He’s dangerous, he’s violent—that’s not a good idea.”

“We can handle it.”

Duncan sighed, seemingly giving up. 

“Just please be careful. Please.”

“I will. I love you, bye.”

I hung up and rubbed my creased forehead. The bartender brought our drinks and placed them on coasters in front of us. Lucia immediately took a big swig. 

“Everything okay?” Lucia asked.

“Yeah, it’s just…Duncan’s against the plan. That’s all.”

Lucia gripped my shoulder. I turned to her, her eyes were blazed with anger. She was a woman on a mission and I knew that we both couldn’t stop until we finished what we had started. 

“It’s a chance we have to take for Kaya!” Lucia exclaimed. I nodded in agreement. I took a sip of my drink and grimaced as it burned down my throat. 

Things were so different after Charlie’s disappearance. Before he was taken, we played and practiced the flute for hours. We read and learned music theory together. We danced and laughed listening to a myriad of songs. Everything from rock, pop, to R&B and country music. He couldn’t go to bed without wishing me good night. 

The dynamics changed when he came back. He lashed out at me, he had trouble looking me in the eyes and he reluctantly answered any questions I had. I felt like a stranger to him. He refused to pick up the flute and refused to do the things we had done before. When he returned, he rushed to Duncan’s side. It was wrong to feel envy, but I couldn’t help it—I’m human, and his mother—I wanted him to trust me again. 

In a way, I was happy for them. Duncan could never get Charlie to enjoy the hustle and bustle of a basketball game. The frenzied energy, the loud chanting and the intense physical play seemed to discourage Charlie from ever stepping foot on a court with a ball. 

Duncan wasn’t sure how to bond with Charlie. Duncan’s father usually retreated to his room upon arrival from work and rarely spoke with them. He only instructed them on things that had to do with discipline and manliness. Duncan watching basketball games with Charlie quietly ripped my heart in half. 

“I hope she’s okay,” Lucia sputtered. 

I was jolted awake, back into the bar and out of my introspective state. I had been lost in my heavy dosage of thoughts. I hadn’t noticed the tears dripping out of Lucia’s eyes as she stared down at the ground. Lucia’s hair hung forward over her head like a sheet of pouring rain. I dragged my barstool closer and gently flowed her hair back. She perked up and wiped the droplets from her eyes. 

“Sorry, I was…never mind.” 

“We’ll find her, don’t worry.”

“How do you know? How do you really know, Phoebe?” she asked pointedly. 

I was put off by the harsh question and how accusatory it sounded, but I knew how she was feeling. I considered it and swallowed my pride. 

“Sometimes we have to lie to ourselves for our comfort or else we’ll go mad,” I said.

Lucia’s mouth hung open on what I said. She looked away and slowly closed it. She seemed to understand. 

“Sometimes I think how things could’ve been different if I hadn’t slept with that moron.” Lucia groaned and shook her head. 

I love Duncan, but during Charlie’s absence, I almost wished that we had never met—that meant we would’ve never had Charlie and he would’ve never gone missing. Sometimes I wished I would’ve been spared my pain.

“How’d you meet him?” I asked as I downed the rest of my drink.

“It was a one-night fling that turned into a month. I got pregnant and I thought we loved each other. He never wanted the baby, but he didn’t tell me until she turned two. It was like a switch—one day he was a decent guy and the next thing you know, he wasn’t.

“I’m sorry to hear that,” I said sincerely. 

Luckily for me, Duncan had always been pretty consistent—consistently grumpy that is. But he washed the dishes and he never stepped out with other women. They didn’t want to put up with him, but I saw his good side—the side that took care of me when I was sick, the side that spoiled me and the side that refused to leave even when I shouted at him to do so. I knew we’d grow old together—as long as I never asked him to choose between me and basketball. 

“I found out later he was taking poppers. It made him feel anxious and angry—prone to violence. Those damn poppers have become such a problem in this town.” She was right, a lot of the kids in school were beginning to show signs of using them. It was becoming a widespread situation and the police department didn’t know where it was coming from. 

Lucia massaged a scar she had on her arm. I examined it and I already assumed where it came from. 

“Did he do that to you?”

She glanced at me with sad eyes. She briefly went back to that day—the day it happened. 

“He did.”

“I’m so sorry,” I expressed.

Duncan never laid a finger on me and I’d never have to worry about that. I was fortunate. 

“I chose to do it on my own—the single mom thing. I wouldn’t be one of those women who gets abused in the relationship and stays—fuck that. I don’t care how much I’ve struggled; I don’t care if Kaya’s missing now; who knows if we’d even be around anymore if we continued to live with someone like that.”

I couldn’t have agreed more. What Lucia did was hard, but it was necessary. Someone couldn’t build a life with someone like Jeffrey. 

“You did the right thing, as hard as it was.”

I gripped her arm affectionately. 

“My mom stayed with my dickhead dad. She’s not around anymore. She got as far away as possible from him, but it was too little too late. The damage had been done.”

“My mother was the dickhead.”

Lucia glanced at me and stifled a laugh. She finished her drink and stood up. I quickly grabbed her before she fell over.

“I gotcha.”

“Thanks, Phoebe.”

I grinned.

“Couldn’t let you fall.”

“Not only for that but for helping me with all this. I would’ve been doing this all alone without you.”

Lucia unexpectedly embraced me and I hugged her back. Lucia didn’t have anyone in her life, she had no choice but to accept my help. 

Regardless, I believe we became good friends. I was more than happy to assist her and to continue strengthening the bond we had started. We hadn’t had drinks at the bar before embarking on this search, that was for sure. Things were changing for the better for both of us. 

“So, dickheads all around us, huh?” Lucia asked aloud. 

“Yeah, dickheads all around.”

I was still a bit woozy after drinking with Lucia, nevertheless, I wanted to play my flute. I retreated inside my music study and grabbed my instrument case which sat on a tiered shelf of other musical items like my metronome, my theory books and decorative figurines of saxophones, clarinets and tubas. I unlatched the case and carefully lifted my flute out. I assembled it and wiped it with a soft cloth. 

I took the opportunity to play because Duncan was out with Charlie. I raised the flute horizontally, placed my fingers on the keys, pressed my lips to the mouthpiece and softly blew air. I played some musical exercises to warm up and then started practicing Angel of Ice. 

Can you hear the music?—That question bounced in my head.

I ignored it. I had to ignore it. 

Mom, can you hear the music?

It was a whisper that penetrated my head, whirling around my skull, putting me off balance. I tried to shake it off, but sometimes it refused to go away. 

“MOM!” Charlie shouted.

I jolted forward, my heart beating out of my chest. I held tight to my instrument and tried to calm myself down. 

“Why?” Charlie whined.

I quickly looked up and jumped. Charlie was quietly standing in the doorway, eyeing me furiously. I slid the mouthpiece off the flute and placed it aside. He had his giraffe plushie in hand, but it had been ripped apart. That was a very alarming image. 

“Jesus, you scared me. I thought you were still at the movies with your dad.”

He remained still and said nothing. I took in a sharp breath and put away my flute in its case. I figured that if he wanted to talk he would’ve. I wasn’t sure if I had the energy anymore to fight him on that. I couldn’t force him to speak.

“Why?”

He stepped forward and pointed at the flute in disgust. 

“Why what?” I asked as sweetly as possible. 

He brought his hand down and shrugged. He attempted to speak, but the words stayed in his throat. He swallowed hard and briefly closed his eyes. He dropped his torn plushie onto the ground. 

“Why did you make me play this?”

I fought hard to hold back the tears. I couldn’t believe the words I was hearing from my boy. The way he leered at the sheet music in disgust, the way he spoke with such disdain towards me. I looked away to maintain my composure before I broke into a fit of hysterics. I just couldn’t believe my son had returned after three long years—a shell of his former self—a boy I didn’t recognize, but desperately wanted to. 

“I…I don’t know. I love it. I thought you did too. I’m sorry. I suppose I was wrong and I am really, sorry.”

Charlie shook his head.

“I didn’t hate it back then. Sometimes I did. It was hard, but…I used to love music. Not anymore.”

What happened Charlie? What happened to you during those three long years? Why did you begin to hate music?

“Because of me?”

He studied me carefully and thought for a second. He seemed to be considering it. He shook his head. 

“No.”

He came closer and slowly wrapped his arms around me. I couldn’t believe it. He was hugging me. I put my left arm around him and cradled the back of his head with the other. I didn’t want to let go. I wanted to hug my son for as long as he’d let me. 

“I’m going to go watch the playoff game with Dad.”

“Okay, sweetheart.”

I reluctantly let go as he walked out of my music study. I placed my hands on my knees and bent over, cradling my head with my legs. I let the tears drop from my watery eyes to the ground and silently celebrated a small win. 

CHAPTER 15

PHOEBE

Lucia and I sat in my SUV near Eastwood and Marble. We were parked on the side of the street near an abandoned construction site and a crumbling convenience store. I noticed the torn-down scaffolding, piles of concrete blocks and sawdust that littered the site. The neon sign that lit up in front of the store was burned out. There weren’t any houses around and the rest of the place consisted of empty shopping lots and woodlands—layers of oak trees surrounded by grassy flatlands.

It was a grey and rainy day, and comparing it to where we lived, we weren’t in the nice part of Ebony Lake. It didn’t feel right meeting at the corner of Eastwood and Marble, but we had no other choice. We needed to know what Jeffrey knew. 

“That idiot is late!” Lucia said while she checked her watch. 

“Something doesn’t feel right about this.”

“That’s obvious, this whole thing is crazy!” Lucia exclaimed.

I constantly scanned our surroundings to ensure nothing strange was amiss. As a precaution, I reached into my glove compartment and pulled out Lucia’s gun. I carefully placed it on her lap and she tucked it into the back of her pants. 

“If anything happens…” I trailed. 

“I’m way ahead of you. I’ll blow that son of a bitch to high hell. It would make my heart sing.”

“Here he comes.”

Jeffrey emerged out of the shadows from the woodlands. He wore a black raincoat and nervously trudged towards the street corner adjacent to the convenience store. We exited the vehicle and cautiously met him where he was standing. Lucia clutched the brown bag of hundred dollar bills in her hands. He had a sly look on his face and I didn’t appreciate that one bit. 

I kept scanning our surroundings to ensure it wasn’t an ambush. 

“Hey beautiful,” Jeffrey called out.

“Cut the shit,” Lucia promptly replied. 

He giggled and flashed what looked like a business card at us. He shrugged and winked at us. I glanced into the woodlands searching for something—anything that could’ve jumped out at us. A few cars traveled down the road adjacent to us, but none were interested in what we were doing. 

“Where’s the money?”

“I got it right here,” Lucia said and showed him the bag. 

“Hand it over, babe.”

Lucia dropped the bag on the floor and curled one of her hands into a fist. 

“Don’t call me that—don’t you dare call me that after everything you’ve done to me.”

Jeffrey threw his head back, laughed and dismissively waved his hand at her. I knew that if Jeffrey continued his nonsense, there was a chance Lucia was going to take out her gun, point it at his head, pull the trigger and end his life and I wasn’t so sure I’d be able to prevent her either. 

I kept an eye on the convenience store to see who was going in and out. 

“What exactly have I done to you, Lucia? Please explain to me.”

“You trashed my house and left your goddamn poppers. It wasn’t the first time either.”

Jeffrey shook his head, pinched his nose in frustration, looked up to the sky and put his hands together in prayer. 

“Stop doing that shit, you don’t believe in anyone up there,” Lucia snapped.

“I didn’t do anything to your frickin’ house. Crazy bitch! It wasn’t me for Christ’s sake! Okay?”

“Just tell me what information you have. Now!” Lucia demanded.

Jeffrey got serious and quiet. He eyed the both of us carefully. From the corner of my eye, I saw Lucia reaching behind her.

“No, don’t,” I whispered. 

Bang!—Bang! Bang!—Bang!—Bang!

I tightly shut my eyes. It was sudden and loud. A series of thunderous gunshots exploded through the air and soared through the sky. I lost my breath as I instinctively crouched down. I glanced at Lucia who was doing the same thing and I didn’t dare look at Jeffrey. 

I grabbed Lucia’s shoulder.

“Why? Why’d you do that?!” I asked furiously.

Lucia jerked my hand off and pointed ahead to the street. There was a low rumbling of an engine followed by an ear-splitting screech as the black sedan disappeared from view. 

“It was a goddamn drive-by!” Lucia exclaimed.

I took a quick look at Jeffrey’s convulsing body on the floor, blood was pouring out of the bullet holes in his chest. He kept trying to breathe but spat out blood instead. He soon suffocated himself and remained still with wide, shocked eyes. 

He had been murdered so quickly—so suddenly, no hesitation, no mercy—he was gone just like that. I remained frozen—quietly frightened because of the brutal murder that had just occurred. 

Lucia was gone from my side. She was rushing over to his body. I couldn’t believe it. What the hell was she doing? I slowly stood up.

“Hey! What are you doing? We need to get the hell out of here!” I shouted. 

She gently searched through his coat pocket and pulled out the card he had flashed earlier. She rushed back, scooped up the brown bag of money and interlocked her arm with mine. We briskly walked back to the car. My head was on a swivel as I checked my surroundings—I switched between looking through the woodlands, the convenience store and the street adjacent to us—thankfully I had seen no one. No witnesses, just us. 

“We should call the police. This has gone far enough—a man was murdered!” I exclaimed. 

We hadn’t called the cops because we didn’t feel we could trust them, but things had reached another level of danger. Jeffrey had been shot by a black sedan with no license plate—something strange was going on. Someone didn’t want Jeffrey talking, and I wondered: “What the hell had he been involved in?” 

“Absolutely, not. How does it look? We tell the truth, and we’re screwed. We tell a lie and it’ll come back to bite us in the ass. Plus, they’d be watching us more closely,” Lucia asserted.

“He was murdered, Lucia—shot to death by people who could be going after us next. We need to stay safe. It could be the same people who shot up your house!”

“Nothing about this has been safe, you know that. We have to see it through to the end. I have to find my daughter.”

I stayed silent, I knew she was right. What else could I say? I needed to redeem myself and I’d do anything in my power to achieve that. We needed to find the people responsible—and we needed to find Kaya—before it was too late. 

We threw ourselves into the car, I quickly started it up, backed out of the parking space and rumbled out of there before anyone showed up. I sped down the street and hoped I wouldn’t see any police cruisers coming our way. 

“What did he have in his pocket?”

Lucia took out the card and inspected it. 

“It says Billy Barnes, tax expert.”

Billy Barnes? What was he doing with Jeffrey?

We re-grouped at my house. When we entered, we were very nervous and I jumped when I saw Sully emerging from the kitchen with a beer in his hand. Lucia almost whipped out her gun again, and Sully held up his hands in surrender. 

“Whoa, holy shit. You guys look scared. What’s going on? Are you alright?” Sullivan asked.

“Yeah, we’re fine. It’s been a day,” I responded while sitting down at the kitchen table. Lucia came around and rummaged through the fridge, pulled out a beer, cracked it open and took a swig. Sully gave her an amused look. 

“I needed one.” She clanked her bottle against his as she jumped up and sat on the counter. 

“You guys look like you killed someone or something,” Sullivan said, while he put down his beer and crossed his arms. He was waiting for an explanation. Lucia and I looked at each other with anxious faces. We were waiting on each other, neither one of us wanted to spill the beans on Jeffrey Ramos’ fate.

“Is Duncan or Charlie home?” I asked.

“Duncan took him to a local basketball game—they finally seem to be bonding. You know how much difficulty he had with that.”

“I know all too well,” I said. 

I’d have to explain to Duncan what had happened later. I didn’t want him making a big fuss of the situation even if it was perfectly justified. He’d just preach to me about something evil destroying the town—an unseen force that wanted to cause harm and malice. 

“Jeffrey Ramos is dead—he was murdered before our very eyes. We were meeting with him to get some information—he owned that camouflaged van—the one that Caffrey Fenix saw the night they took Charlie.”

Sullivan was taken aback and gasped. Lucia took out Billy’s business card and passed it to Sullivan who examined it.

“Billy Barnes? What is this?” he asked. 

“It was in his pocket. He was going to tell us something about it or Billy Barnes himself, but never got the chance,” I replied. 

“Jesus, so Jeffrey was murdered? How?” Sully said while he scratched his head. He was trying to wrap his head around it and so was I. 

“It was a drive-by shooting. All we saw was a black sedan driving away, no license plate.” I got up from the table and turned down the volume on the TV in the living room that had started blaring the local evening news. 

“A drive-by shooting? My god!” Sullivan exclaimed in disbelief. 

Something like that didn’t happen often in Ebony Lake. It seemed like bad things started happening when Sullivan lost his family.

“He was involved in shit he shouldn’t have been involved in—that’s what happened! The poppers and all that shit—it finally caught up to him.” Lucia asserted. She finished her beer and jumped down from the counter. She threw the empty bottle aggressively into the trash and it broke when it hit the bottom of the aluminum receptacle.

“Sorry,” she muttered.

“How can Billy be connected to Jeffrey?” I asked.

I had been thinking about it the entire drive home. They were never friends or anything like that. The only thing they had in common was living in the same town. 

“What about this RPL thing? You think Jeffrey was in it?” Lucia asked aloud. 

Sullivan blankly stared at the TV. He seemed to be remembering something—a memory that was buried deep inside—he snapped back to reality when I gave him a direct look. 

“Sorry—a lot of sleepless nights—watering the plants and all that jazz. What I remember about Billy is that he used to attend these private meetings in the Ebony Lake Clubhouse. Other details are a bit hazy, but I remember that for a fact.” Sullivan trudged over to the couch in front of the TV, plopped down and rubbed his tired eyes.

I followed suit and sat next to him. 

“Sully, how do you know that?”

Sullivan sighed and gave me a forgiving look. Lucia came closer to listen, her face scrunched up, elbows on the kitchen counter. 

“I used to take poppers in the woods and I always used to see him go there. Tommy and Timothy would be there too sometimes. That was years ago though, it wasn’t a good time for me. After I lost my family—I was a wreck—a complete car wreck. You know that, Phoebe.”

I affectionately tapped his shoulder. I did know. I knew everything he had gone through. The anguish, the suffocating grief, the torment…everything. When I lost Charlie, I knew what it was like to lose someone you loved more than yourself. 

“Did the poppers affect your memory that much?” Lucia asked while coming around to our side.

“Oh yeah, did it ever. It warped my mind. Sometimes it’s hard for me to discern reality. Sometimes I wake up still thinking that Gina, Carina and Carson are still around. I imagine the smell of pancakes and burnt toast. I hear the tattering footsteps of Carina and Carson running around the house. It’s a bottomless pit. My entire world is grey. It feels like there’s no sun shining because the light can’t penetrate through the sky.”

“I’m so sorry, Sully,” Lucia offered. 

Sully gave a slight nod, but it wasn’t anything he hadn’t heard before. I was sure he was tired of hearing people being sorry for him. 

Sullivan handed me Billy’s business card and got up from the couch. 

“Speaking of those plants, I better go water them.”

“Have fun with that,” Lucia replied. 

“Oh, I will. I’ll be jamming out to Angel of Ice.”

There was a scene that flashed on the TV. It was a reporter near Eastwood and Marble. There was yellow tape and half a dozen police cruisers that were swarmed all over the area. It was where Jeffrey had been shot and killed.

“Shit, they found him,” Lucia muttered. 

Sully took out his phone.

“Yup, it says it on the Ebony Lake Town news app: ‘An unidentified man has been shot and killed. Foul play is suspected, more news to come.’ ” Sully read aloud.

“Who the hell would’ve done it? Billy? Rodrick?” I asked.

“I wouldn’t count them out,” Lucia answered.

I inspected Billy’s business card. There was something scribbled on the back, but it was faded. It read: “W Lane 26,” and I had no clue what that meant. 

“Anyone know where W Lane 26 is?” 

Lucia shrugged, while Sully shook his head.

“Sounds like an incomplete address,” Sullivan said, as he made his way to the door. 

Before leaving he turned and pointed at me. 

“There has always been a rumor, but it was never proven. I’m not sure if we’ll ever know, but it was a rumor.” I shut off the TV and met him near the door.

“What is it?” 

“Rumor has it, Jeffrey killed Conrad Fenix. Caffrey’s dad.”

A shiver crawled down my spine. That case had never been solved. No one knew the animal who had brutally murdered Conrad, a decorated veteran. 

“Why would he do that?”

“Apparently over drugs—poppers.”

Everything seemed to be connecting more and more as we went on. Jeffrey Ramos, Conrad Fenix, Rodrick Woodley and Billy Barnes. How were they connected to poppers, the RPL and the children who had gone missing? What happened to the camouflaged van? Burning questions that remained unanswered. But, there was one thing I knew for sure. Something evil had been brewing in Ebony Lake for a long time and it was time it came to light. 

And just on cue, my thoughts were interrupted by yet another mysterious text message:

“You’ll destroy everything in your life.”

CHAPTER 16

PHOEBE

Ididn’t always have the greatest relationship with my father. Growing up, our bond was fairly unremarkable, until he introduced me to music. He taught me how to read music first and pretty soon started teaching me to play the flute.

“Can you hear the music, Phoebe? Can you feel it?”

That’s what he used to ask me. 

He taught me to feel the rhythm, to feel the melody in my bones. I fell in love with losing myself in the soul of it. Everything stopped when I played: my worries, my troubles at school and my issues with my controlling mother. Nothing mattered when I played—I only felt joy. 

I wanted Charlie to love and experience the joy of music the same way I did. I wanted the same relationship with Charlie that I had with my father. 

I gave up my dreams of playing flute in an orchestra when I became pregnant with Charlie—I decided to be a dutiful mother. 

I fought with Duncan to allow me to work part-time in the school’s music department. He thought it wouldn’t be good for me to be moving around too much, but I had to explain to him that I needed something to occupy my mind—otherwise, I would’ve gone mad. 

It was a continued rebellion against my mother. She always told me I had to learn to be a good housekeeper to be a good housewife. 

She hated the fact that my dad played late nights in jazz clubs. She used to yell at him and berate him for doing so.

“Stop playing late at night! Your duty is to your family! You damn oaf!”

My mother knew that my dad’s only choice was playing at night, he worked during the day to support us. She was a control freak and one day he couldn’t take it anymore—he unexpectedly passed away in his sleep. I believe it was all the stress my mother had given him. 

My heart was torn in half that day. It felt like a sharpened sword had brutally pierced my chest and had embedded itself there for months. The pain of his passing was not easy to overcome. I only had the flute to play in his honor. 

I was in my room sitting at the edge of my bed. I was in my parents’ house. I had a minimalist room with a wooden desk along the white wall, a small shelf for my music books and a window that gave me the view of a shimmering lake. A few houses were nestled along the shore. We lived in a crowded neighborhood with houses directly next to one another. There wasn’t much space to move around.

The only happiness I had living in a crowded place like that was my music. I   was able to play through the noise of neighbors fighting, spouses arguing and children screaming. 

That night wasn’t any different and I began to play my flute. My father had already passed away and it was only my mother and I.  I wasn’t sure what satanic goblin had crawled up my mother’s butthole, but she charged through my room with a ferocious rage that rivaled the men who were damned in the flames of hell. I immediately stopped playing and only stared at her with my mouth agape. 

My mother resembled me in appearance, except she had a few more wrinkles, her face was more weathered and her hair was greying. There was also something about her eyes, they seemed darker when she got angry. My mother’s mouth was twitching and her fists were shaking when she invaded my personal space. 

“Stop playing that shit!”

“Why?” I asked quietly. 

“It’s annoying, I can’t concentrate on anything. I’m listening to the radio,” she barked.

“You can barely hear me, I have the door closed,” I replied innocently. 

“Are you talking back to me, little girl? You don’t know what the hell I do to maintain the two of us in this house! Your father’s gone and it’s just me. You better treat me with some respect!”

I stayed quiet and swallowed down the lump in my throat. My hands were sweating and they felt clammy. Tension always formed in my stomach when my mother was chewing me out. It felt like a knot was tying itself around my insides. 

“Have you nothing to say to me?”

I gently shook my head. I thought that was the right thing to do—it wasn’t. She yanked the flute out of my hands and smashed it onto the floor—the mouthpiece was dented and the rest of it was bent out of shape. I couldn’t believe she’d do that to me. It felt like my whole world was crashing down, the one comfort I had was gone. I couldn’t use it anymore and darkness entered my life for the next few years. 

“See? That’s what happens when you don’t say sorry to mom. You’re going to learn to respect me.”

She charged out of the room and left me shaking with tears pouring out of my eyes. I woke up in my dark bedroom, with my back covered in sweat—I was back in present day. I usually didn’t get nightmares like that—the ones that involved the horrors I went through with my mother, but when I did—they were the worst. 

I realized why I disliked my mother so much—she was far too controlling. She didn’t allow me to live the life I wanted and she did the same to my father. She put a stop to all of my dreams and all of my desires. 

I didn’t attend her funeral—over time my resentment had grown so much that by the end of her life, I wanted nothing to do with her. She gave me something bad—a bug or a virus that caused me to treat Charlie the same way she treated me. 

That’s the reason Charlie ran away—I couldn’t believe I had been so blind. I wanted so badly to justify myself and my actions—I wanted to be right. I told myself I knew better—I didn’t. Duncan knew it before I did, but I didn’t want to admit it he was right. 

I had lost three years with Charlie because of this bug—this virus. I realized I had to break the cycle so I got up from my bed and got a towel from my bathroom. I wiped the sweat off my back and decided to hop in the shower before I did what I had to do. 

I finished and got dressed. Duncan and Charlie got home late. They were still up. I heard Duncan teaching Charlie about basketball while I slowly made my way over to them. 

“Do you see how they help their teammate score? They block the other team’s players while their teammate comes around, receives the pass and makes the shot,” Duncan explained. 

They were in the living room as I watched from afar. They were seated at the long, rectangular heavy table made from oak. Duncan was drawing on a dry-erase board of a basketball court and Charlie was attentive. I couldn’t help but smile. They seemed to be finally bonding, something Duncan had wanted for a long time. 

I didn’t want to explain Jeffrey’s murder just yet, so I opted to stay quiet for the time being. I cut through and gently interrupted them. 

“Hey guys, how was the game?”

Duncan nodded enthusiastically.

“It was amazing, went down to the wire. Charlie and I had a great time. Such a good game.”

I smiled at Charlie, he returned a sheepish smirk. 

“That’s good, honey!” I exclaimed.

“Don’t worry, we’re done here. We know it’s bedtime,” Duncan said as he got up from his chair and gave me a peck on the cheek. 

“Actually, I was hoping to speak with Charlie for a second if that’s okay with you?” I asked while I looked at him sweetly. 

He softly nodded, avoiding eye contact with me.

“Okay, well, goodnight then,” Duncan replied, while he pressed his lips to my ear and softly gripped my arm.

“Did you hear about Jeffrey Ramos? What the hell did that come from?” Duncan whispered. 

“Yeah, it’s insane.”

Duncan sighed and shook his head.

“Something evil lurks in this town and I don’t know when it’ll go away,” Duncan remarked, and on that final note, he yawned and retreated to our bedroom. I sat across from Charlie and folded my hands on the table. He stared downward, seemingly lost in thought. 

“Charlie, I’ve recently done some personal reflection.”

He perked up and thoughtfully met my steady gaze. He seemed more attentive to what I wanted to say—it was a good sign. 

“My mother raised me in a certain kind of way—and it was built around controlling me—it wasn’t very healthy at all. I had a better relationship with my father and we bonded through music. My mother seemed to hate that idea, so as a result, she lashed out at me often.”

Charlie murmured something, but I didn’t hear what he said. He did give an approving nod so I continued. 

“After my father passed away unexpectedly, I continued my love of music. It was my act of rebellion against my mother—that’s why I wanted to pass it on to you—I wanted us to have the same relationship I had with my father. I didn’t realize I was acting like my mother—I was trying to control you.” I expressed sadly.

“I see,” Charlie said quietly. 

He raised his eyebrows at me like he was surprised I was apologizing to him. He gave me a convincing grin too. That warmed my heart and gave me some relief from the tension I had been feeling in my stomach. I didn’t notice, but I had been holding in a breath I didn’t know I was holding. 

“It felt like my mother’s spirit had taken over me. I am sorry, I shouldn’t have done it and I’ll be better moving forward. I’m just so happy you’re back after three years. It’s just…it’s a miracle. An absolute miracle.” 

“Yeah,” he said in agreement. 

“I’m sorry for trying to teach you: Angel of Ice. It was too hard for your level, that was my fault. You can blame me for that. I deserve it.”

Charlie’s eyes began to water as he stood up from his chair. My eyes began to water too. He slowly came around, slightly shaking. I pushed myself away from the table and opened my arms to receive him. 

He dove into me and hugged me tightly. I happily reciprocated. Droplets from my eyes were rolling down my cheeks uncontrollably. I smiled so wide, my face hurt. It felt like my son finally loved me again. Charlie was blubbering and was completely overcome with emotion.

I held him tight and massaged his hair. 

“Love you, mom.”

I quietly began sobbing as well. It was the first time I had heard those words in a very long time. It felt like a part of me had healed in that moment. Pieces of my fragmented heart were finally mending themselves back together. 

“I love you too, Charlie.”

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry for leaving,” Charlie sobbed.

“It’s okay sweetheart, it’s okay. All is forgiven. Please tell me what happened, please tell me who took you. Please, do you know?”

He peered up at me with tear-filled eyes and rosy cheeks. He softly shook his head.

“Better if we forget. Better if we don’t know,” Charlie whispered.

“Why, son? Why?”

Charlie’s abductor needed to be brought to justice—no matter what. 

“It will destroy everything,” Charlie proclaimed with terror in his eyes. Someone had threatened him and I had to find who. Someone had taken my son from me, kept him for three years and had struck fear into his soul. I promised myself that they would pay dearly. 

CHAPTER 17

DUNCAN

DECEMBER (2015)

Conrad’s murder shocked the community, but it shocked me the most. It was senseless, it was cruel and no one knew why anyone would want to murder a decorated veteran. More importantly, he was a good father, and poor Caffrey would miss him for the rest of his life.

I was at the crime scene in Conrad’s neighborhood. Multiple neighbors were outside, spectating the multitude of police cars that had swarmed around the front of Conrad’s home. Caffrey and his mother Katherine stood on the outskirts of the cordoned-off crime scene that was closed off with yellow tape. Both of them were understandably in shock—poor Caffrey’s face was sullen, his eyes downcast—he just stood there, silent.

I stood near my car, unable to fully process his sudden death. I felt breathless, like my chest was constricted with concrete and I asked myself: “Why? Why would someone want to murder him in cold blood? What had he done to warrant such a heinous act?” 

I remembered he had told Sully and me about a neighbor issuing a complaint against him. Someone had complained he had been smoking marijuana in the neighborhood, but that couldn’t be further from the truth because Conrad didn’t do drugs. 

I watched as a couple more police cars rushed in to join the fray. Some folks outside were waving them off and glaring at them with contempt. They didn’t believe in them being there, they had already failed in their eyes. Conrad was already gone, what else was there to do? The police never managed to catch Conrad’s killer, and they never had any suspects. Some believe it had been some crazed “popperheads” who had committed the brutal crime, but nothing was ever proven. The police had failed the community. 

That meant I couldn’t fail Caffrey. I needed to be there for him—to guide him and steer him in the right direction. One of the best outlets he had was basketball. He’d play it to the best of his ability in honor of his father, because if he didn’t—he’d spiral into a deep, dark depression. I wouldn’t allow that to happen. 

That day had always been a strange one because it was one of tragedy. I received the call about an hour after Conrad’s murder—it was Sully. 

“Hey man, did you hear the news? I didn’t even think to call you. It’s been crazy. I still can’t believe it,” I answered.

“They’re gone! They’re all gone, Duncan! Oh my god! Duncan! Duncan, please help me! Help me, brother! Oh my god, I want to die! I can’t believe it! Duncan, please help me!”

“What’s wrong?! Where are you, Sullivan?!”

“Home! My home is gone!”

“I’m on my way!”

I jumped in my car and sped down the street. I crossed three streetlights and turned the corner on Ebony Lake Boulevard. It felt like hours as I arrived at what was left of Sully’s home. My heart was pounding out of my chest—begging to break out—to feel the horrible pain and to spill the blood rushing through my insides. I already knew something tragic had happened the moment I saw Sully collapsed on the sidewalk, his face was buried in his hands while some neighbors tried to comfort him. 

Two firefighter trucks were parked on the side of the street. Dark gray smoke emanated from one of the burning structures while two groups of firefighters tried their best to put it out. I watched in horror as Sully’s house was reduced to ashes and black dust—the entire house was gone. 

I parked near a neighbor’s home and carefully exited out of the car. The stench of the smoke and burnt wood overwhelmed me. I covered my nose with my shirt, my eyes felt like they were being scalded with hot water. My tears stung as they flooded out of my eyes, blurring my vision, but I wiped them off with my shirt.

I somehow made it to Sully’s side and put my arms around him. He looked at me, his face was flushed from sobbing, his eyes brimming with tears and the weight of his grief pulled down his features. He was in shock from losing everything he held dear. 

“Sully, what happened? What the hell happened?!” 

I gripped his arms as hard as I could and tried to prop him up, but he didn’t allow it and slowly slipped off of me. He sank back to the ground like a deflated balloon. The cruel devastation weighed him down, preventing him from regaining his footing. 

“Gina, Carson, Carina. They—were—in—there! In—there!” Sully shouted incoherently while pointing at the blackened wasteland that remained of his home. 

My eyes immediately welled up and the tears began to flow again. I had to remain strong for my brother. I couldn’t lose myself to the agonizing pain of the destruction I was facing. I took a deep breath and kept reminding myself to remain strong—I had a big responsibility—I had to take care of my big brother. He had lost everything he loved, except me, and I wasn’t going anywhere. 

I crouched down and held him tight and I refused to let go. I kept telling him it was going to be okay even if it was an outright lie. I wiped my face as water from the hoses sprinkled onto me. 

“They burned it down! They burned it down! Evil! Evil forces! I was close—I was so close!” Sully blubbered. I wasn’t sure what he was referring to, but I figured that he had gone into an unfortunate state of shock. I then stared at the firefighters as they put out the last of the flames. 

“It’s okay, man. It’s going to be okay. I’m here for you, I’m not going anywhere.”

I held his head and tried to calm him down as best I could. It was an impossible situation to be in. What else could I possibly say to my brother? Sully’s house had burned down, and his family had burned with it. It was an inconsolable tragedy. 

“They terrorize people, that’s what they do. They’re terrorists. Terrorists! They don’t like them! They don’t like those people, Duncan,” Sully whispered. 

“I understand, Sully. I understand.”

That’s all I could say. Who knew what he was talking about?

I glanced at the crowd of spectators, I thought I saw two familiar men, the twins, Tommy and Timothy Duke. I saw them for a split second before they vanished. I thought I was going crazy. 

Sully was taken to the hospital after the ordeal and stayed for a few days before being released. The new phase of his life had begun, and I had to be there to help him every step of the way. 

He didn’t want a funeral for his family, nor did he want to see anyone else but me. 

He also hadn’t told me why the house burned down in the first place. I suspected he might have been on drugs—poppers. After the firemen put out the fire, they showed me a box filled with burnt wrappers inside, they looked like poppers so I told them to just throw them away. I kept that secret to myself. 

Weeks turned into months as I helped Sully pick up the pieces of his broken life. I helped him move into a smaller house near a swampy marsh, where he enjoyed “watering the plants.” There were a series of simple, one-story houses with two-car garages that faced the pool. It was the only place he could afford with his savings and what he had managed to get from the insurance company. 

The sky was gray as I pulled into his dirty driveway. The house was dark brown and pretty dull, unfortunately, it echoed his situation. All I could do was sigh as I got out of my car to head inside. I had a spare key, so I opened the front door and entered.

I knew I’d find him on the black futon, drinking a beer and staring at the blaring TV. The lighting was dim, and the curtains were drawn. A single white light flickered in the tiny kitchen. The brown carpet made the house even more depressing than it already was. I didn’t dare say a word, though, how could I? 

I know what you’re going through, Sully.

Yeah, right. I had no business saying anything like that. I sat down beside him without saying a word. He barely flinched. 

“How are you?” I asked.

He shrugged, not wanting to talk.

“Okay. Do you want to see Phoebe or Charlie? They’ve been asking about you.”

“No. Sorry,” Sully grumbled.

I patted his shoulder and squeezed it.

“There’s nothing to be sorry about. We’re here for you when you need us.”

Sully nodded. I started to get up, but he put his hand on my thigh. He slowly turned to face me.

“They took them. The evil forces—the evil forces of Ebony Lake. My wife Gina, my twins Carina and Carson—Conrad. They took them all, Duncan—all of them!” He exclaimed.

“I understand, buddy.”

He had been saying that for months. The counselor said it was related to the horrific, traumatic loss he had experienced. Sully didn’t want to see her anymore after a few visits and wanted to be left alone. I chose to abide by his wishes and visited him nearly every day, just to make sure he was okay. 

“Do you need anything from me?” I asked in a soft voice. 

“No. It was good seeing you,” he replied with a blank look on his face. 

I rose from the futon and saw he was watching a collegiate basketball game; at least he had that to keep himself occupied. I exited his house and shut the door to lock it. 

I almost slipped on a muddy envelope that had been on the floor. I bent over and picked it up. It looked like it had been there for weeks. Sully rarely left his house—he more than likely hadn’t seen it. It didn’t have any markings or stamps, and it wasn’t addressed to anyone. I didn’t even think it had anything inside until I opened it. 

I pulled out a folded white piece of paper. It was a letter of some kind. I opened it and saw a typed message: “Stay out of the way or burn like the rest.” I suddenly had to catch my breath as my head began spinning, turmoil broiling my chest like a heated cast iron. What kind of message was that? It was clear, it was a threat. I had no idea what Sully was involved in. If I wasn’t freaked out before, I was at that moment. 

Nothing had happened to Sully since that horrible incident, so I figured they would leave him alone as long as he did what the letter said: “Stay out of the way.” 

I often wondered if it had something to do with Billy, Rodrick, Tommy, Timothy or Jeffrey, but I didn’t have the nerve to open up any can of worms. The house burning down had been declared an accident, and the cause of it was still uncertain. They theorized it had been a gas leakage in combination with flammable objects. 

He also mentioned something called the RPL. I wasn’t entirely sure what it was all about or if my brother was experiencing delusions, but I realized he was talking about the neighborhood community group that Billy was in charge of. The only thing I knew for sure was that Ebony Lake had become a place of tragedy after Conrad’s murder and the burning of my brother’s home. Nothing was the same after that dark day. 

CHAPTER 18

PHOEBE

PRESENT DAY

The sudden, brutal murder of Jeffrey Ramos had led us to the Ebony Lake Clubhouse, which sat near the Ebony Lake Community Center. Sully had told us that Billy used to hold private meetings there. It was abandoned, but it was our only option to check out.

First, we checked Billy’s house, but the driveway was empty. Then we drove to the warehouse where the car garage was, where Rodrick worked, no one was there. 

We concluded that they must’ve been at the clubhouse. Why? We were about to find out. Lucia and I decided to go at night. We arrived when the community center was already closed, so we parked a couple of blocks down the street and walked the ominous road up to the clubhouse. 

“This is where we die. Someone’s going to jump out of the woods and axe our faces off,” Lucia remarked.

I gave her a blank stare and shook my head. 

“We’ll be fine.”

We trampled over dead weeds and dry patches of grass to get to the cubed stone building that hadn’t seen maintenance in years. A miniature jungle had formed and had been somewhat difficult to make our way through. 

“I’m not built for this shit,” Lucia whispered.

“Me neither.”

We finally made it to the rusted, cold metal double doors and softly tugged on them. They were locked. Lucia tugged on them harder, but I urged her to stay quiet by placing a hand on her shoulder. It sounded like they had been locked on the inside with metal chains—no one was going inside. 

We tiptoed and peeked through the small rectangular windows at the top of the doors, nothing was inside, and no lights were on, just a cold, empty hallway. 

“Looks like Sully was wrong. They don’t go here anymore.” I sucked in my teeth and sighed. I was hoping he had been right. I wanted to be close to finding Kaya and the truth behind Charlie’s disappearance. 

“Let’s head back and see what else we can come up with,” Lucia replied. 

We paused when we heard footsteps coming from the back of the clubhouse. The soft crunch of dry grass was as loud as an alarm bell due to how quiet it was. 

“Are you sure you heard something? I don’t know, man, we always talk about this. We’re alone out here—we always are!”

“Nah, man, there’s something there.”

“Maybe it’s a deer that tried getting in.”

“A deer? You’re nuts.”

“Let’s get this shit back to Billy’s so we can get paid already.” 

The voices sounded familiar. Lucia and I slowly looked at each other with wide, frightful eyes. My shoulders were tense, my stomach had tied itself into a knot, and my head was throbbing. I covered my mouth with my hand as my breathing grew shallow when I spotted Lucia gently taking out her gun from the back of her pants. I wanted to scream at her to stop, but no words came out. It felt like my heart was beating in my throat. 

The twins suddenly came around the corner and froze. Each of them held a pair of large black duffel bags. We all stayed deathly quiet and maintained eye contact for what seemed like forever—it all happened in about five seconds. Lucia’s gun was already drawn by the time the twins dropped their bags. 

Before they could draw their weapons, Lucia swiftly shot a bullet in each of their heads. 

Bang!—Bang!

Two clean shots penetrated their skulls. It gave them both an instant death as they collapsed to the ground. I couldn’t believe what Lucia had just done. I stood in shock as I stared at their lifeless bodies. Their eyes had a look of horror, and their mouths remained agape. 

That was it for them—they’d never move again. They were gone. What struck me the most about death was the swift, finality of it all. The cruel scythe of death had taken Tommy and Timothy in an instant. 

It was a chaotic blur as we rushed back to the car. We strapped in and sped back down a dark road to our neighborhood. 

“What the hell did we just do?” I asked aloud.

Lucia checked her gun before placing it back behind her.

“It was us or them. They were going to shoot us, and they were going to kill us. Got it?” 

I immediately nodded. There wasn’t much else to be said about it. I only hoped there weren’t any witnesses and that they had been: “very bad men.” Murder was a horrible thing, after all, it involved taking the life of another—it made someone judge, jury and executioner. 

However, there was some moral justification for eliminating someone who caused great harm to society. Someone who caused death and mayhem for cruel or selfish reasons. There could be a reason to expel them from society once and for all. 

“Police aren’t following us, are they?” I asked. Paranoia was filling my belly and sending a chill down my spine. Lucia turned her head and scanned behind us. 

“No one is there, we’re fine, Phoebe. There weren’t any witnesses. The place was empty.”

I understood that Lucia had to do what she had to do to protect us, but we were “in it” after that. Jeffrey’s murder was one thing, but Lucia had shot and killed Tommy and Timothy. Whatever they were involved in could find its way back to us. What was inside that clubhouse? What was inside those black duffel bags? Whatever the answers were, we couldn’t go back. We couldn’t risk being caught with two dead bodies. That would’ve been it for us. 

“What if someone heard the gunshots?” I asked.

“We’re long gone now, nothing much anyone could do about that. We’ll be fine, I promise,” Lucia said and briefly gripped my shoulder to comfort me. I took a deep breath and remembered that I had wanted to go down that path. It was all for my son—all for Charlie. I needed to find redemption and justice for the years he was lost. 

“What were in those black duffel bags? What were they doing there?” I asked anxiously.

Lucia took in a deep, shaky breath. It was a highly tense situation, and there were no easy answers. 

“I don’t know, but … I don’t know. When the cops discover them, they’ll see what they were doing. I’m sure of it.” I nodded, satisfied with that idea. The truth of what they were up to would eventually come to light. 

I needed to change the subject or else I’d go mad. All I had in my mind was the picture of Tommy and Timothy’s dead bodies—and the bullet holes that had punctured their foreheads.

“Heard any more details about Jeffrey’s murder?” I asked.

Lucia shook her head while scrolling through her phone. 

“It’s still under investigation.” She sat upright and placed her phone face down on her lap. 

As I turned a street corner, I entered our neighborhood, Ebony Lake. 

“Who the hell could’ve done it?” I asked aloud.

“Someone with a lot to hide.” Lucia stared out the window as we passed the first row of houses in our neighborhood. We were about to pass Billy’s house, which had a yellow light emanating from the window. I slowed down the car and parked it near a sidewalk with hedges. 

“What are you doing?” Lucia asked.

“The twins mentioned Billy by name.”

“Are you sure? I didn’t hear that.” Lucia gave me a curious look, and I doubted myself for a second.

“Yes, I’m sure I heard Billy’s name,” I firmly stated. 

I pointed at his house because there must have been someone inside. That light wasn’t turned on when we just arrived. I slowly crawled the car closer, and we stayed idle to see if anyone was in the house. 

“What do you think he does in there?” I asked.

I truly wondered what Billy was up to in his spare time. 

“Taxes, and after that he probably watches porn,” Lucia snorted.

I had an eerie feeling about Billy, and I wasn’t the only one. I had to admit that Duncan had been right. The amount of time Billy spent with Rodrick and the Duke twins was odd, to say the least. I wondered if he’d be expecting them. If he was, they weren’t visiting anytime soon.

“Could he be the missing link between everyone and everything?” 

Just as I said that Billy came out. He had a big smile on his face. He quickly pointed at our car and rushed over. 

“Oh fuck that, drive away. We don’t need this right now,” Lucia urged. She almost grabbed the wheel and yanked it from me. 

“This can be our chance.”

“Chance for what?” she whispered.

“We have no other leads. This is for Kaya,” I replied. 

I rolled down my window as Lucia cursed under her breath. Billy got closer and waved enthusiastically at us.

“Hey, gang! What are you gals up to so late at night?” 

“We were going to hang out at the mall, but all the good stores were closed.”

Billy threw up his hands in the air and slapped them across his head.

“Aw, man! That sucks! Big time!”

Lucia unclipped her seatbelt and scooted over to get closer to the window. 

“We were thinking of smoking a joint in that old clubhouse by the community center, but it was closed. Know anything about that?” Lucia asked pointedly.

A lump formed in my throat as I gave her the side eye. I didn’t think it was the greatest way to phrase that question, but it was too late. I looked over to Billy for a response, and the smile disappeared from his face. It vanished for a few quiet seconds as he adjusted his glasses. 

Was that the real Billy? Did the mask finally slip off? 

“No. Not really,” Billy replied curtly.

We all remained quiet for what seemed like an eternity. Billy scanned his eyes around the dark neighborhood and put on that great smile once again.

“Say, do you gals want to come inside for game night? I don’t have substances, but we can still have a grand time. What do you say? I’m sure Duncan will be okay with it, right?”

I examined Billy from head to toe, and the more I looked at him, the more he looked like a shape-shifting reptilian. I remembered that from my husband’s conspiracy theories. 

“Sure. We’ll pull in.” I gave him a thumbs-up.

“Great.” Billy clapped his hands together and slithered back to his house. He pulled out his phone and seemed to send a text message before shoving it back into his pocket. I rolled up my window. 

“He’s going to find out what you did.” I pursed my lips and shut my eyes for a second. Things were feeling tense, and the danger was mounting. 

“I wanted to see what he’d say. I don’t know about you, but I saw a mask slip off. That motherfucker is hiding something.”

I wasn’t the only one who had caught that. It was time to see what Billy was hiding. 

“I saw it too.”

“So, are we really doing this?” Lucia asked quietly.

I turned to her with stone-cold eyes. 

“Take your gun. You might need to use it again.”

CHAPTER 19

PHOEBE

Billy’s home was pristine and meticulously organized. I wasn’t surprised, he gave off that demeanor. He led us through his carpeted living room, around his leather couches and through his mahogany fireplace. A large rectangular oak table was positioned between the kitchen and the hallway to his bedrooms.

Billy lived alone, as far as I knew, and he never mentioned anything about a wife to anyone who knew him. There was already a Flip ‘Em board game sprawled out on the table with a pair of dice, a variety of silver figurines and miniature houses. Two bottles of wine were also placed on the table. 

Lucia’s eyes scanned his entire house and I did the same. It wasn’t lit very well, and I was certain that it had been done on purpose. I wasn’t sure where we were, but it felt like we had entered the lion’s den. Billy sat down and motioned for us to do the same. 

We both reluctantly sat across from him as we all awkwardly stared at each other. I drummed my fingers on the table while Lucia had her arms crossed. I could already tell she wanted to get down to business, and I couldn’t blame her for it. 

I was tired of searching and needed it to end, but the dark truth surrounding our missing children seemed to be escaping our grasp. We had to hold on tight so it wouldn’t slip through our fingers. 

“Have you gals played this game before?” Billy asked cheerfully. 

“I haven’t, but it looks interesting,” I replied kindly. 

Lucia slowly shook her head. She was disinterested in what he was setting up. She gave me an angry glance, and I gave her a look that instructed her to take it easy. I didn’t think she’d follow it, but at least I tried. 

“Have you heard anything about my missing girl?” Lucia asked while she set her stone-cold eyes on Billy. He glanced at her nervously and scoffed at the question.

“What do you mean? Are you talking about Kaya?” Billy asked while he finished setting up the game and folded his hands on the table. 

“You’re a leader in this community, so I thought you would’ve heard something. The police haven’t found her or anything that could lead to her.” Lucia said without averting her gaze. Billy found it difficult to maintain eye contact with her. 

“I don’t uh…I haven’t heard anything. If I did, you’d be the first to know.” Billy mentioned while he nodded strongly and clapped his hands together. 

“I thought you were supposed to keep this community safe, and after Charlie went missing, you should’ve done more,” Lucia said agitatedly while she took a deep breath. She allowed Billy to feel her unspoken rage; he shrugged and anxiously wiped his eyes. 

“I do try my best, I swear it. I wish I could’ve prevented those kids from being kidnapped, but that’s not how life works.” 

I perked up at that answer and Lucia did too. We both immediately caught it. 

“Kidnapped?” I asked.

Billy remained quiet as the air was beginning to feel charged. I felt it in my gut. He was going to spring up and sprint away as fast as he could—and it wouldn’t matter—the truth always caught up with you, no matter how hard you tried to outrun it. 

“I didn’t mean that. I just assumed they went missing—that’s all I know—all anyone knows,” Billy said nervously and started toying with the silver figurines on the table and refused to look at us. 

“You shouldn’t assume things when it comes to kidnapped children,” Lucia scolded.

I needed to break the tension so that things wouldn’t reach a boiling point. I didn’t know what we had gotten ourselves into, but I knew we had to exercise caution. Monsters were closer to us than they appeared. 

“Billy, could I please use your bathroom? I got a long, thick one begging to come out,” I remarked out loud. It sounded like something Sully would say. He did say something similar once in a classroom full of teenagers. How do you think that went over?

Billy stifled a laugh while Lucia smiled. She knew what I was doing.

“Sure thing, it’s down the hall to the right.”

I got up and quietly made my way to the bathroom, but I had no intention of actually using it. I wanted to search around—I wanted to see what I would find hidden away in Billy’s suburban dungeon. 

“So, Billy, explain this game to me.” Lucia would keep him occupied while I did what I needed to do. Billy cleared his throat and started making demonstrations with the miniature houses. 

“The objective of the game is to build as much housing as possible and to rip people off.” Billy trailed while I walked along the dark hallway. 

I took the right and went out of view. Billy and Lucia couldn’t see me anymore.   I found the bathroom, but right across from it was something that piqued my interest. It was a closet with a lock on it. Why would Billy have a locked closet in the middle of his house like that?

I tried peeking inside, but I saw nothing but pitch-black nothingness. I tugged on the doorknob softly, but it wouldn’t budge because it was securely fastened, and I couldn’t open it without making some serious noise—I couldn’t risk alerting Billy.

I decided to search across from where the bathroom was. I went to the opposite side of the hall and found a study. I pulled on the doorknob, but it was locked—I noticed it had a keyhole—Billy sure loved locked doors. I was going to continue my exploring, but Billy shouted at me to come back. 

“Phoebe, did you get lost? We need to start the game!” Billy shouted. 

“I’m on my way!”

I strode down the hallway and flashed him a smile. 

“Let me just put my coat on the rack.” I walked to the coat rack near the front door and gently placed my coat on it. 

“Make it quick!” Billy yelled. 

“Please,” Lucia echoed. 

That’s when I saw it—a hat hidden amongst the fur coats that Billy had placed. I carefully pushed the coats aside and pulled out the hat. It was a camouflage-colored hat—a Marine Corps hat. I examined the writing on the inside. The text was faded, but it clearly said: “CONRAD FENIX.”

My eyes widened, my pulse quickened and my heart banged against my ribcage. I quickly found the door to the garage and swung it open. 

“Phoebe, what are you doing ya crazy lady? You want to leave already?” Billy asked while he stood up and watched me as I took a look inside his garage. I flipped the light switch and saw two vehicles: one was a grey SUV and the other car was a black sedan without a license plate. I gasped loudly—that car belonged to the person who shot and killed Jeffrey. 

I allowed the door to the garage to shut and exchanged a stern look with Billy. Lucia remained frozen. A dozen racing thoughts barreled around in my head—only one was truly important: “What the hell was Billy Barnes up to?”

“Find what you’re looking for?” Billy asked, irritation creeping up in his voice. 

I slowly walked back towards the table as Billy pulled out his phone. He started messaging someone frantically. It was readily apparent that something was very, very wrong. I thought about everything I had just seen in Billy’s house and I finally got the answers I was looking for.

“Lucia! He murdered Conrad and Jeffrey! He killed Caffrey’s father! He shot Jeffrey! He murdered them both!” I shouted out of breath. I was barely able to speak amidst the anxiety-laden constriction in my throat. 

Without thinking, Lucia jumped up, grabbed a bottle of wine and smashed it over Billy’s head. Billy was drenched in red wine from head to toe. He called out in pain while cradling his head with his hands—tiny shards of glass were embedded into his skin.

“Why?! Why would you do that to me?!” Billy angrily questioned. 

Lucia hurriedly took out her gun and kicked his leg down. When he fell over, she pinned him down with her own body weight. He tried to wriggle free but it was no use—Lucia wasn’t letting him go under any circumstances. 

“Phoebe, tell me! What did you find?”

I snatched the camouflaged hat from the coat rack and showed her. My hands trembled horribly. I couldn’t believe it, Billy was the man who murdered Conrad Fenix, and after all this time, I was sure of it. 

“You’re fucking kidding,” Lucia cursed under her breath. 

“Get the hell off me! Let me go! I’ll explain,” Billy interjected with desperation in his voice. He tried to lift his head off the ground, but Lucia angrily pushed it back down. 

“You’re not going anywhere, you monster,” Lucia warned. 

“Why would you have Conrad’s hat? Why Billy? Why?” I asked. I bent over and stared into his fearful little eyes. He knew what he had done. He stayed quiet because he didn’t have an answer. I already knew what it was, no matter what other words came out of his slick mouth. The goody-two-shoes neighbor who turned out to be a murdering piece of shit, what a fucking cliche. 

“There are people in this town who do not deserve to be here, you understand? This is my town, built for my people. It has been infested with vermin like you,” Billy began screeching with rage, but Lucia quickly shut him up by slapping the side of his head multiple times until he stopped. 

“Stop that,” she commanded. 

“The black sedan that we saw drive away after they shot Jeffrey, the one without a license plate, it’s in there.” I anxiously pointed towards the garage. 

Lucia gave me a look of horror as her face slowly realized that it was in Billy’s garage. We had entered a house of evil. 

“What the hell have you been up to all these years, Billy?” I asked.

“I did nothing wrong, nothing at all!” he shouted. 

“Where’s Kaya? Where the hell is she?” Lucia questioned him. Billy started laughing and shaking his head. I went to the front door and peeked out the window. I made sure no one was there while I searched the garage. 

“Why are you laughing?!” Lucia thumped his ear, he cried out in pain.

“I didn’t take your kid, Lucia. I don’t take children.”

“I think you’re a fucking liar.”

Once I was inside the garage, I quickly gravitated towards the trunk of the black sedan and feared the worst. I tried to open it, but it wouldn’t budge. I ran back inside and went through Billy’s pockets.

“Hey! Hey! What are you doing?! What are you doing?! Don’t touch me! Don’t touch me there!” Billy started squirming so Lucia grabbed a fist full of his hair and pulled it back, he groaned loudly. 

“Pipe the hell down.” Lucia let go and he finally stopped moving. I took out Billy’s car keys and ran back inside the garage. I tried a few different keys before opening the trunk of the car. I opened it slowly, with my heart beating in my throat as I expected the worst. 

Upon opening it, I found a sledgehammer, a silver pistol and a few bags of blue and white substances. They looked like jawbreakers tightly wrapped in plastic. When I examined them more closely, I realized it was a mixture of pills. They were poppers, the drugs that had ravaged Ebony Lake, Billy Barnes was selling them—he had been the one all along.

I saw a dark blanket that was covering something at the far end of the trunk. I pulled on it and tossed it aside. What I found shook me to my core. There were several flyers, that read: “RPL”, which stood for: “Racial Purity League.” 

I couldn’t believe what I was reading. The flyer had bullet points that stated that minorities had invaded Ebony Lake and were slowly eroding the community from the inside. It said they had to win back the town and to do that they needed to sell poppers to minorities. They had to drug them up and push them out. 

What the fuck!

My hands shook with rage. Billy Barnes, Rodrick Woodley and the Duke twins were all racist bastards. They were the evil that had infested Ebony Lake. That’s why they murdered Conrad Fenix—because he was different. He was a black man, and they chose to kill him in cold blood. It was the most despicable and violent evil I had ever encountered. 

I took the sledgehammer and a flyer. I went back to Lucia who was still holding Billy down, questioning him endlessly about Kaya. She looked at me and saw what was in my hand and I gave it to her. As she read it, I saw her face twist with unbridled fury. I swore I saw a burst of flame flash across her eyes. She threw it aside and stuck her gun to Billy’s temple. 

“You—racist—motherfucker! You killed Conrad because of what he looked like! He was a good man and a good father! You killed an innocent man because of your diseased head! I should kill you right here, right now!” Lucia shouted ferociously. 

I didn’t know if I could stop her. Everything she said was right. Billy didn’t deserve to live. But did we deserve the right to end his life, even if he was a cruel, malicious man? I reluctantly tugged at her shoulder, but she didn’t budge. She continued to press her gun to Billy’s head. He became deathly quiet and didn’t move a muscle. 

“Say something!” Lucia raged so loudly that the walls shook. I put my hand on hers, slowly guiding the gun away from Billy’s head. She hesitantly followed and pulled herself back. 

“He’s not the only one, but he has to be the leader of this RPL. I’m guessing Rodrick, Tommy and Timothy were a part of it too. They’re all racist degenerates.”

Lucia scoffed and shook her head disapprovingly. 

“Jeffrey was involved with them, and he probably never realized that they hated him. They probably made him trash my house and my car or maybe it was them, and they knew I’d blame Jeffrey. The point is they used him, and he didn’t have a clue.”

Jeffrey had no idea that the RPL had planned to murder him all along. I was sure of it.

“Duncan knew all along that Billy was too nice for his own good, except he’s really a psychopath.”

Lucia eyed the sledgehammer in my hands and gave me a curious look. She pointed at Billy’s head and nodded enthusiastically. She gave me a thumbs-up. I shook my head.

“Like a watermelon,” Lucia commented.

“It’s not for him. I’m going to break the lock on that closet he has in the hallway. He had poppers in his trunk. I think he’s the one who’s been selling them.”

Lucia’s eyes widened and an epiphany seemed to cross her mind. 

“That’s why they left poppers behind in my house. They wanted me to take it, those lowlives! What kind of asshole comes up with a plan that stupid? I tell you who, Billy—Billy’s plan was complete shit!”

I suppressed a laugh, the situation felt so absurd and so surreal. Things had taken a turn for the worse ever since Charlie’s disappearance. Billy still wasn’t saying anything, but he began mumbling incoherently under his breath. He knew his life was over. 

I rushed to the locked closet and swung the sledgehammer down on the lock, it broke instantly. I tossed it aside and slid the closet open. It was filled with more RPL flyers and bags of poppers. I grabbed a few and came back to them. I threw it in front of Billy’s face. 

“What exactly was your plan with these death pills? Did you really think you’d root out the minorities of this town, and take over? Your mind is infected, Billy. I don’t know how this happens to a human being, but I’m sorry—I’m sorry you’re so ignorant and inhumane. I’m so sorry you felt the need to betray your own humanity.”

Lucia turned him around so we could see his blubbering face. Billy’s eyes were tightly shut and his lips quivered. He continued mumbling, but we had no idea what he was saying. 

“Absolute coward,” I said directly to his face. 

Lucia tucked her gun underneath his chin and violently grabbed the side of his face with her free hand. 

“Where is Kaya? I know you have her. Where is she?!” Lucia screamed to his face. 

“We know you’re involved with them, the children, Charlie and Kaya, you took them. You’re the evil of this town. You had something to do with all of this. Are you trafficking them?” I whispered. 

Billy’s eyes fluttered open and his lips stopped quivering. He took a deep breath and smiled like a lunatic. He looked like he was going insane. 

“I have no motive to take children. That’s what you’re failing to understand,” Billy quietly answered.

Lucia slapped him, she wasn’t taking that for an answer. 

“I’m Latina and so is Kaya. You killed Conrad and Jeffrey, so I know you have no issue murdering people who don’t look like you.”

Billy’s face remained smiling. It irked me, causing a stir in my stomach. Something else wasn’t right and I felt it in the air. What else was Billy hiding?

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Billy whispered.

I could tell that Lucia was getting frustrated by the way she sucked on her teeth and pursed her lips. I took the business card that I had found on Jeffrey and showed it to Billy. He analyzed it curiously.

“This is your card. Jeffrey had it. He was going to give it to us before you killed him.”

Billy remained quiet, but the strange joy he had was drained from his face. 

“Why is ‘W Lane 26’ written on it? The text is faded—but what does it mean? Where is that? Is it a location? A secret code?” I asked urgently.

Billy nonchalantly shrugged. He had no reason to give us any information. After all, we had blown up his entire drug operation. It was the beginning of the end for him, and he knew it.  

I stood up and shoved the card back into my pocket. I searched around his living room, through his desks, shelves and TV stand. I found his laptop tucked away beneath a bookshelf, aligned along the back wall of his living room. 

“Found his computer,” I told Lucia.

“You’re screwed,” she hissed to Billy. He remained still and didn’t seem at all concerned. When I opened it, I was prompted to type in a password. I took it to Billy and showed him.

“What is it?” I asked.

Billy threw his head back in laughter, before being silenced by Lucia.

“You’re never getting that password from me, you’ll kill me before you do,” Billy said quietly. 

“I’m tired of this shit.” Lucia took out her phone and dialed 911. 

“We’re going to give the police your laptop and show them the drugs, and you’re going to tell them where Kaya is. One way or another—we will find my daughter!” 

That’s when it slipped to the ground like an alarm bell going off. There it was: a bright pink scarf—it had fallen from the bookshelf. From where? I couldn’t recall, but there it was. That was Kaya’s scarf—she was wearing it the last time I saw her— before she was taken. 

I slowly walked over to it and picked it up. Lucia glanced at the right time and saw it. Lucia’s face immediately turned as red as the fire that burned in her heart. I felt her sheer fury from where I was standing, it emanated in waves of heat. Her anger was volcanic, and Billy was caught in her eruption. 

Lucia smashed his head against the floor as he cried out in pain. She pinned his head down with one hand while sticking her gun in his eye. 

“Ow! Ow! Stop that! Please!” Billy begged for mercy. 

Why the hell did Billy have Kaya’s pink scarf in his home? How could he possibly defend that?

“Why do you have Kaya’s scarf in your fucking house?! You are a goddamn pedophile, just like Rodrick! Admit it!” Lucia roared. 

Billy was hyperventilating. I was afraid that if he wasted any more time, Lucia would pull the trigger. 

“It was Rodrick! It was Rodrick! He found it on the side of the road, okay? He’s a freak—a goddamn freak! That moron left it in my house! It’s not mine! I don’t know what he does in his free time!” Billy pleaded. 

Rodrick took Kaya? Fuck, that’s not good. 

“If Rodrick took her then where the hell is she?!” I shouted.

“Where the fuck did Rodrick take my baby girl?!” Lucia thundered. 

She used her free hand to wrap her fingers around his throat, she began choking him. Her animalistic rage had started to take over. What Billy failed to understand is that we are mothers, we’d burn the whole fucking town to the ground if it meant saving our children. 

“Rodrick…I think…” Billy started to squeak out—then there was a loud:

BOOM!

It sounded like a clap of thunder had erupted through the front window as it broke apart, exploding everywhere. I caught a glimpse of Rodrick hoisting what looked like a shotgun through the broken window. I tackled Lucia to the ground, just as another ear-shattering gunshot was fired into the living room—shells clanging all over the wooden floor. 

Lucia’s phone went flying out of her hand and out of sight. No time to search for it. My mind instantly went into survival mode. My top priority was not getting my body shredded by shotgun shells,  it was getting back to Charlie in one piece. I had to live—no matter what, I had to live—Lucia did too. We needed to get out of there alive. 

“Don’t shoot it’s Billy! Don’t fucking shoot!” Billy ran towards the front while screaming at Rodrick that it was him. 

“Fuck.” Lucia grunted. 

“Are you hit?” I asked concernedly. 

I quickly got off of her and we both remained on the ground. We were hidden behind the corner along a wall on the other side of the living room. I rubbed my sore ribcage which had taken a hit from the floor. Somehow, I still had the laptop in hand, but the screen had cracked. It looked badly damaged. 

“No, I’m good. You?”

“I’ll live.”

I took in a sharp breath and winced. I had fallen hard. 

“I’m going to shoot at him, wait for him to shoot back, then we run,” Lucia instructed.

Lucia got to her feet and pulled me up by my shirt. I tried to muster up all the strength I had remaining. 

“You sure about this?” I asked, breathing heavily. My insides were all tangled and knotted—apprehension strangling my heart. Lucia gulped and strongly nodded. She was laser-focused. 

Just as Lucia was raising her gun to shoot back, police sirens were heard in the distance. They were on their way. Rodrick shot twice again in our direction. 

“One shot from that, we’re dead as fuck,” Lucia whispered.

“Let’s not get shot then,” I replied with confidence.

Lucia pointed her gun around the wall and started shooting. She stopped when Rodrick shot back, peppering the wall. We quickly crawled away as the wall we were hiding behind was lit up with shotgun fire. Pieces of drywall exploded off, falling everywhere like confetti. 

We had no hope against his gun and we were running out of time. There was a chance he’d come around and blow us to smithereens before the police arrived. We also had no idea what Billy was doing. There was a chance he had a hidden compartment with his gun in it, and that’s when I remembered the silver pistol in the trunk of his black sedan.

In all of the craziness that had ensued, I hadn’t thought of retrieving it. There was a chance we’d pay the ultimate price for my fatal mistake. But—no—I decided I wouldn’t allow it. We had to survive, there was no choice. We couldn’t allow the evil of Ebony Lake to destroy us. 

The kitchen was down the hall, a few feet away to the right, there was a window we could escape through. We only had a couple of minutes until they realized they could rush us and kill us. 

“We escape through the kitchen, it’s our only hope,” I whispered fiercely. Lucia mouthed ‘let’s go.’ We aggressively grabbed each other when we heard violent creaking coming from the wooden floor adjacent to us.

“Time to fucking move.” Lucia pulled me in the direction of the kitchen as we bolted inside barely escaping the deafening gunfire. Lucia kicked aside the small glass table that blocked our way to the window. The small glass table cracked when it hit the refrigerator. Lucia jumped towards the window, unlatched it and slid it open, barreling herself through the opening and landing outside in Billy’s backyard. 

The furious footsteps sounded dangerously close and in hot pursuit. I thought for a millisecond and acted—we had no chance if they followed. I turned on all the burners of the gas stove in the kitchen and placed a couple of wine bottles and cooking oil bottles on top. Amidst the chaos, I dropped the laptop and left it there. I had to leave or I’d burn. I dove through the window, but I got stuck midway. 

I’m fucking dead. 

As I struggled to get through, Lucia pulled me out just as I heard slight crackles of fire and glass bottles breaking. I grabbed Lucia and made her run with me as far away from the house as possible. We opened the back door to the fence and ran out towards a grassy area near a small lake that bordered the houses of the neighborhood. 

The police sirens were getting closer just as an explosion reverberated throughout the entire town, fracturing the peace. The sputtering and sizzle of fire burning caused us to carefully walk back to see what was happening. As we cautiously treaded back, we heard screams of anguish that swiftly dissipated. 

When we peeked through the fence, a roaring fire engulfed Billy’s home, lighting up the night sky. I studied the rest of the backyard and spotted Billy and Rodrick’s bodies. They had been burnt to a crisp. Soon after, a couple of firetrucks were heard blowing their horns and sirens as they sped down the street. Some people were opening their front doors, screaming and shouting incoherently. I only managed to hear some frenzied comments: 

“Fire! Fire in Billy’s house!”

“Call an ambulance!”

“Everyone stay calm!”

“Oh my god, Billy lives there!”

“Jesus Christ.”

“Oh my god,” Lucia mumbled under her breath. 

I stood in awe of what had occurred as I wondered if it had been the right thing to do. Two bad men were dead, burned to death by a fire I had created. I told myself it was karmic justice. I believed that if you did enough evil in your life, it’d come back to you, and you’d be punished for it.

CHAPTER 20

PHOEBE

Iwas still in utter shock after what happened. The adrenaline was still rushing through my veins, heightening all of my senses. Lucia and I decided to make our way out of Billy’s backyard before they questioned what we were doing there. We inserted ourselves with the burgeoning crowd of concerned neighbors who had gathered to watch the firefighters hose down the fire in Billy’s house. We did our best to blend in with the commotion.

“What’s going on?”

“What started the fire?”

“Oh my god! Who was in the house?!”

Streams of pressurized water sprayed all over the fires, putting them out one by one. Lucia and I made sure we hid behind the group of people outside, we didn’t need to be interrogated by the police after what we had done. A few officers had parked their cruisers in front of Billy’s house and were blocking off the area with yellow tape. The police officer in charge barked out orders at the unruly crowd: 

“Please do not approach the house! I need everyone to stay back! It’s for your safety!”

When the firefighters finished their duty, it had been reduced to ashes and black dust. Grey smoke emanated from burnt wood, debris and soot, enveloping the air with a horrible smell. The neighbors outside continued their dismay:

“That’s Billy’s house!”

“What happened to Billy Barnes?!”

“This is horrible!” 

The structure of Billy’s home had not survived. It was a charred ruins of melted furniture, scorched walls and tiny fragments of shattered glass. Firefighters began pulling out objects that had barely survived the fire: a bunch of burnt RPL flyers; some bags of poppers; Billy’s blackened laptop and Conrad’s Marine Corps hat.

Police officers began piling them up and labeling them as evidence. 

“We got some bodies back here!”

One of the officers found Billy and Rodrick’s charred bodies. The crowd gasped in unison, then whispered to each other what they saw. A couple of elderly ladies started crying and a few children screamed out in horror. 

Jesus Christ.

It was time for us to make our hasty exit. I decided to leave my car where it was. It would’ve been suspicious that my car had been parked near Billy’s house. Perhaps it was just me being paranoid, but I wanted to be very careful, especially since we had caused so much death. 

I had started the fire that killed Billy and Rodrick, while Lucia had murdered Tommy and Timothy. Jeffrey was also dead—shot to hell—because we wanted to keep his secrets, the secrets that Billy wanted to hide. 

We chose to walk away, back to our homes, in the opposite direction. 

“That was nuts,” Lucia said, letting out a heavy sigh while she rolled back her shoulders. I stared at the night sky and thought to myself how insane it was that we were still alive after that chaotic ordeal. 

“So Billy Barnes was the leader of this RPL and Rodrick, Tommy and Timothy were all in on it—selling and injecting drugs into the community for their own cruel and twisted motivations,” I said.

“They must’ve shot up my house. They wanted me gone. Those racist fucks!” Lucia said angrily.

I rubbed her back to try and comfort her. We had been through a lot in the short time we had been together trying to find the truth behind our missing children. It seemed like we were at a standstill, but at least we had done our part in uncovering the “evil forces” of Ebony Lake—the RPL: the Racial Purity League—what a group of sick individuals. 

“You think they trafficked my daughter? They were involved with drugs, but what about people? Do you think they sold children too?” Lucia asked quietly.

My body shuddered at the thought that Charlie could’ve been a victim of that. And although it was a possibility, it would’ve been too much for me to bear—I never would’ve forgiven myself for that. Since the RPL had already crossed the line to do what they did, I was sure they’d do anything to complete their racist goals. 

We were nearing Lucia’s house, the broken windows had been replaced thanks to Sully and Duncan—they were good handymen and even better men. Despite the tragedy that befell Sully, he was still striving to be a good person even though he had every reason to hate the world and lash out at it. 

“We’ll have to see if the police uncover anything from what is left of that laptop—who knows what else they were up to. I’ll write up a detailed tip and send it anonymously to the police department. Hopefully, that’ll assist them in solving Conrad’s murder case and the horrible drug trade in this town. Maybe something will come up about Kaya too—you never know.”

We stopped short of Lucia’s house and gave each other a long embrace, we then continued our conversation.  

“I can’t stop thinking of Kaya’s scarf…it was in his house, Phoebe. Rodrick…his history…” Lucia sighed and stopped, she didn’t want to complete that thought. 

 The poor scarf was more than likely burnt to a crisp. I couldn’t stop thinking about it either: “What the hell was Rodrick doing?” I then looked at Lucia, she was wiping tears from her red eyes. 

“I might have to accept that my little girl might be gone for good,” Lucia shuddered. The cruel dagger that was piercing her heart and draining her of life, I felt it too. I shook my head, I wouldn’t allow it to end like that, it could not be the end of Kaya. I refused to accept that—I needed to see her alive or otherwise. 

“I’ll go to Charlie and tell him what’s at stake and why he needs to tell us who took him. Enough is enough, we need to know. Hopefully, that’ll point us in Kaya’s direction.”

Lucia grimly nodded. 

“Thank you, Phoebe,” she whispered. 

“That’s why I’m here,” I replied gently.  

I affectionately rubbed her back. I knew what she was going through and I needed her to hold on. We needed to find Kaya before it was too late. She was more than likely in danger, hidden somewhere. The people responsible for her abduction were dead. It was time to find out where they’d hidden her—dead or alive. She might’ve been locked in the clubhouse or Jeffrey’s apartment. Charlie held the answers we needed. I only hoped she hadn’t been in Billy’s house, for if she was—she really was gone. 

“I need a damn drink. Care to join?” 

I considered Lucia’s offer. A drink didn’t sound bad at all, but I had to decline. 

“I appreciate the offer, but I should go home and check on the boys. They’re probably worried.”

“I’ll call you in the morning,” she replied.

“Don’t worry, we’ll find her. We’ll take a break, see what Charlie says and we’ll go from there.”

With that plan set in place, we went our separate ways. It didn’t take long for me to reach my house. I noticed that Duncan’s car was gone from the driveway. I smiled at the thought that he might’ve been at a local basketball game with Charlie. They were spending a lot of time together and were finally beginning to bond. Things had been different between them before his disappearance—Charlie had been very cold and distant. 

I inserted my key into the front doorknob and pushed the door open. The lights were off, but the TV had been left on. I went over to turn it off and flicked on the light switch. I found the charging cable we kept in the port of our couch and plugged it into my phone, it had run out of battery. 

As soon as it turned back on, a text message notification from Duncan appeared. It said: “Going to Sully’s. Meet me there as soon as you can.”

I raced back outside and planned to make my way around Billy’s home to avoid the commotion at the scene. 

While I was practically running, it returned, it echoed in my mind like a distant memory: 

Can you hear the music?

CHAPTER 21

DUNCAN

PRESENT DAY

BEFORE THE BURNING

Ifelt guilty about it. About the fact that I had a better relationship with Charlie after he had returned. He hadn’t spoken very much and he refused to speak on why he had disappeared for three years, but we bonded. It was very unexpected. For whatever reason the roles had reversed. My wife had a better bond with Charlie before the disappearance and that changed when he returned. I was closer to him and she had been frozen out.

I didn’t want it to be that way. All I wanted was for all of us to be a happy family again. I tried to get Charlie to speak more with his mother, but he angrily refused and would hear nothing of it. I chose to leave it alone and to let it run its course. Phoebe knew what she needed to do to regain his love and trust. She would find the reason why he disappeared; she was on the search for her own redemption. 

I was against it, as I didn’t believe she needed to redeem herself, but she wouldn’t listen to me. I just didn’t want her in harm’s way. I knew she could take care of herself, but to what extent would this search go? What kind of dangerous and shady individuals would she get involved with? 

It reminded me of my brother, Sullivan. He had been involved with Billy, Rodrick and the twins. He refused to tell me what had happened between them, and when his house burned down, he seemingly blamed it on them. Something had gone very wrong there, and I still didn’t understand exactly what that was. I remembered seeing Tommy and Timothy that fateful day. I wondered from time to time why they were there. I didn’t think I’d ever get the answers to the burning questions that revolved around in my head, so I let them go. 

All I knew was that he was my brother and he was a good man. He needed me then and would need me forever. He had lost his family so I gave him as much loving, brotherly support as I could. That’s what brothers do for each other. 

I was in the living room with Charlie, we were getting ready to watch a playoff game. The Brookhaven Foxes vs. the Rainfall Knights. We sat on the couch together, and despite Charlie not speaking very much—we enjoyed each other’s company. Every single night I thanked my lucky stars for bringing him back. My world was gray and dull without him and he brought color back into it.

“I’m happy we’re spending more time together, Charlie.”

Charlie looked at me and smirked.

“Me too.”

That filled my grumpy heart with glee. All I ever wanted was to have a close bond with my only son—the type of relationship my father and I never had—and I seemed to be finally achieving that. 

“I thought you were gone, son. I’m so happy you were returned to us.”

I affectionately grabbed his head and pulled it towards me. I kissed him on the top of his head and smiled at him. I fought back the tears that wanted to slip from the corners of my eyes. He glanced at me and beamed.

“I’m glad I’m back.”

I got up and went to the kitchen. I pulled out a couple of soda pops from the fridge and plopped back onto the couch. I placed one on the coaster in front of Charlie and opened my own. It started fizzling up and spilled all over my shirt while I desperately slurped it up. 

Charlie looked at me and hid his laughter. I couldn’t help but join him. He started giggling aloud once he heard me chuckling at myself. 

“Dang soda, always exploding.” I took a sip and placed it on the ground. I turned up the volume on the TV by tapping on the remote control beside me. The playoff game was getting underway as we both watched in anticipation. 

“You know, my father was cold towards us, Sully and me. He didn’t give us affection growing up. I thought there was a good reason for that, but there wasn’t. He was just like that—he was a jerk. I don’t want to be like him. I’m happy I have a second chance now.”

Charlie looked at me and nodded. 

“That’s good, Dad.”

He called me “Dad.” That really warmed my soul. I grabbed the soda from the ground and drank half of it before placing it back down. 

“Where the heck were you for three years, son?” I asked softly. I always asked myself that question. I shrugged to myself, not expecting an answer. I focused on the game as tip-off began. One play led to another as bodies flew in the air, crashing near the backboard, attempting to secure the ball. I threw my fist into the air, pumped that my favorite team started off winning. 

When I glanced to the right, Charlie was gone. I saw him slowly walking down the hall. I immediately figured it was because I had asked him about his disappearance. I knew I should’ve kept my mouth shut. 

“Charlie! Charlie, buddy! You don’t have to talk about that stuff until you’re ready! C’mon, we got a great playoff game! It’s the finals!” I shouted after him.

He didn’t return and continued moving forward undeterred. I decided to wait a few minutes before I’d go and apologize to him. I didn’t care about justifying myself or making myself right—I just wanted a good relationship with my son. 

Before I could get up, Charlie came back with a flute in hand. 

“Oh, the flute?” I asked curiously.

Charlie nodded and placed it horizontally near his mouth, his lips on the mouthpiece. I quickly turned down the volume on the TV and paid close attention. He slowly and methodically started playing a familiar tune, it was beautifully played. I began to wonder how he had retained his musical abilities after all this time.

Pretty soon he stopped playing and dropped the flute to his side. He only stared at me without saying a word. 

“What was that? It sounded familiar.”

“Angel of Ice.”

How could I forget? That was the tune that Phoebe played so well, the tune that practically made her career. But how did Charlie learn how to play that? When he was younger, Phoebe had tried to force him to learn it. He never mastered it because it was too difficult for him. 

“Who taught you that, Charlie?” I leaned forward and studied his features. Something seemed off with him, like he needed to say something, but was afraid to do so.

“Someone else,” Charlie replied.

My heart started pounding against my chest, my breathing grew shallow and I felt the color draining from my face. What the hell was Charlie talking about?

“What are you saying, son?”

“I learned it in school. I also learned about watering the plants.”

I was very confused. I didn’t know if Charlie was having some sort of episode or if he was having a breakthrough. I pulled my phone out of my pocket and called Phoebe, but she didn’t answer. 

I texted Sully and asked him if I could come over. I told him about Charlie’s breakthrough—somehow he knew how to play Angel of Ice. He wrote back: “Holy shit. Okay.”

“What else did you learn, Charlie?” I asked gently.

He remained silent for a moment before answering.

“The birds and the bees.” 

Oh Jesus Christ, what is he talking about? What does he mean? Have my worst fears been realized? Who the hell abducted my son? Had it been Rodrick all along? I thought to myself. 

My heavy heart grew and it ached in my chest. 

I motioned for Charlie to follow and we went outside to my car. We got in and drove off. I passed Billy’s house which had one light on. I wondered what the hell that guy was up to. I’ve never trusted him.

When we arrived at Sully’s house, Charlie decided to stay in the car. I didn’t want to fight him on that, so I let it be. I strolled to Sully’s front door and waited for a response after I knocked. There was nothing—complete silence. I noticed that his car was parked up front so I texted and called him—no answer. I hoped he was okay. 

I decided to use the spare key I had and entered. It was dimly lit and it felt like nobody was home. 

“Sully? Sully! Where are you? You’re never going to believe what Charlie just told me!” I called out. 

I investigated everywhere—his bedroom; the living room; the kitchen and then the garage—there was noise coming from there, so I walked over to it. I opened the door and tried to turn on the light, but I couldn’t find the switch. I used the flashlight on my phone instead. 

A few things were distinguishable in the dark: There was a school desk in the middle of the garage; scribbled drawings; painted portraits hanging from the walls; a small table with a laptop on it and a stool to sit on. A foosball table was pushed to the corner, where I sometimes beat Sully. 

I continued to look around. A flat-screen TV was mounted on the wall, it was across a black futon that fit two people. I didn’t understand why Sully still had all that stuff, but I realized he was still trying to remember them. He didn’t want to forget his twins. I finally found the light in the garage and flicked it on. When I stepped closer inside, I saw something that made my heart stop beating, my head grew dizzy and my vision began to cloud. I wasn’t seeing that, was I? I couldn’t comprehend it—no, I refused to comprehend it. 

But, there she was, after all that time—Kaya. 

Kaya was right there. Lucia’s daughter was in Sullivan’s garage. She was chained to a wall. She looked well-fed and well-dressed, but she barely looked alive. She stared into space with blank, lifeless eyes.

I shuddered and almost fell backward. I still couldn’t believe what I was seeing. Surely there was an explanation for having Kaya chained up, right?

Right?

“Oh my god. No, no, no, no, no, no. It can’t be. Sully, why? Why? I don’t understand this.”

Kaya turned her spiritless face towards me, and her eyes bulged in shock. 

“Help me. Please.”

I had no time to think. I had to act. I turned back around and sped out of the garage. I had to get help. I had to help Kaya as soon as possible. 

That’s when two bullets sliced through the eery calm—piercing my stomach and causing blood to spill out of me. I immediately collapsed to the ground while groaning in pain. I instinctively put pressure on the bullet wounds with my hands and hoped I’d live to see another day. I had to—for my son—for my wife. 

Angel of Ice.

CHAPTER 22

PHOEBE

Before arriving at Sully’s house, I texted Lucia that I was headed there in case she needed me. I sped around the corner as Sully’s house came into view. It was a simple, one-story house with a two-car garage. He lived near a swampy marsh, as he liked to call it. In reality, it was an area that resembled a wetlands with heavy vegetation, it was far from the town.

It was the new house he lived in after the tragedy that destroyed his former home with his family. Poor Sully had lost them all in the fire that burned down everything he loved and held dear. 

The image of a camouflaged van rushing out of Sully’s opening garage caused me to jolt my car to a sudden stop, but it wasn’t enough, as he crashed into the right side of my car as I was pulling up to his driveway. My side door was smashed in and aside from a near heart attack—I was mostly okay. Thankfully, the airbags hadn’t deployed—they would’ve blasted me in the face. 

The van slowly came to a stop as it wheeled into the side of my car and halted its backward motion. The back doors had flown open but slid back closed because of the van’s momentum. 

However, it had been enough for me to see who was inside. Suddenly, I couldn’t breathe, suddenly my chest felt so tight I thought the veins that connected to my heart were going to burst wide open. Sheer adrenaline fueled my body out of my seat and out of my car while tears drowned my eyes. I was immediately shocked, saddened and enraged all at once. 

I slowly approached the van, my body shaking with grief, my mind racing and yearning for the truth—yearning for all the secrets to be revealed. I silently sobbed, it felt like an iron wrench twisting my insides, quietly draining them of blood. 

There he was, my husband Duncan, paralyzed, covered in red blood. I had no idea what to think or what to do next. I was at a loss—in complete confusion and disarray. What happened to Duncan? Why was he dead? Why was he covered in his own blood?

Who did this? Why? Why, Duncan?

Sullivan slowly exited the van and came around. He interrupted my frenzied thoughts. Guilt washed over his crazed face—his eyes wide, his mouth agape and his cheeks flushed. I heard a clinking sound off in the short distance, near the garage. I glanced in that direction and wished I hadn’t. Why? Because all my questions were being answered—all the pieces of the puzzle were beginning to fit. I had been right after all. He tricked us—manipulated our trust and turned it against us. 

The mystery I had been trying to uncover with Lucia regarding our missing children had been solved. Shockingly, I almost didn’t want any of those questions answered anymore. The betrayal that had unearthed itself was enough to eviscerate my spirit and darken my mind forever. How could I live on knowing what I knew, after that fateful day?

Kaya was chained in that garage all along—in Sullivan’s garage. He had taken her! All I wanted to know was: Why? Why had he taken Kaya? Why had he taken Charlie? I knew it had been him, there was no one else. It had been him all along. Duncan found out the truth, that’s why Sullivan murdered his brother. 

Sullivan knew I had spotted Kaya, and my face said it all. He closed his eyes for a brief moment, when he opened them, his revolver was firmly in his grasp, aimed at me. He was prepared to kill me as well. I wasn’t prepared to die, I wanted to live a happy life with Charlie. After everything we had been through, I had been given a second chance. After all the suffering and all the mental torture I had gone through, I wanted to reconnect with my only son.

Fate was cruel and it did not forgive. It brought back Charlie and it was about to take me in his place. Before I went, I wanted—no!—, I needed to know: “Why did Sullivan abduct the children?”

“Why? Why Sullivan? Why did you do this?”

I swallowed the dry lump in my throat and tried to stay strong despite knowing what was coming at the end of it. My life had been changed forever and nothing would ever be the same again. 

“I wanted my family back. I wanted my children back. After I lost them, I…I felt they were somehow robbed from me. I’m sorry, Phoebe. I just wanted more time with my kids. It wasn’t fair—none of it was fair—none of it was supposed to happen.”

I sighed and shook my head. I couldn’t believe the insanity that was coming out of his mouth. I didn’t recognize the man standing in front of me. He was holding a gun and pointing it at my head. That was my brother-in-law, a man I had come to love as a close friend and confidant. I had been ruthlessly betrayed— Duncan, Charlie and I had been ruthlessly betrayed by the person we trusted most. 

“Kaya and Charlie aren’t your kids. Why would you abduct them? They weren’t yours to take. You betrayed us, Sullivan. You doomed our family forever. There’s no coming back from this.”

I wiped the tears flowing down my cheeks with my shaky hands. I felt a fire growing in my stomach, churning with rage and sorrow. 

“It wasn’t my fault! Billy and Rodrick burned down my house! They’re evil! They’re racist drug dealers! I was trying to do the right thing—I was trying to take them down. I never took their supply, they lied! They lied to everyone!”

The poppers had taken their toll on Sullivan throughout the years. The man was a raving lunatic. I had no idea who he was, but it wasn’t Sully. Sully would’ve never abducted children and would’ve never murdered his brother in cold blood. 

I looked at the street corner sign where he lived. It said: Waterbrook Lane 0526. I remembered what had been on Billy’s business card: W Lane 26. 

Jeffrey was going to tell us that he had sold the camouflaged van to Sullivan before he was shot and killed. 

There was also the situation of the mysterious text messages—Sullivan had been the one behind them all along. 

“I tried to warn you, Phoebe. Why didn’t you leave it alone? Why didn't you listen? I gave you back Charlie, and I would’ve given Kaya back too. All you had to do was leave it alone. I just wanted some time with my children, to hold them and love them again.”

He made it sound so simple, so normal—when it was, anything but normal—it was absolutely insane. I couldn’t believe how he had rationalized the monstrosities he committed. 

“What you did is unforgivable, Sullivan. You took him, and you acted like everything was normal. You hung around us, comforted us, and the whole time— the whole fucking time, you had him chained in your house. You…you’re a goddamn monster!” I shrieked. 

I couldn’t hold it in anymore. I couldn’t stand his calm demeanor. There was nothing calm about the situation and there was nothing sane about it. He was going to suffer in the deepest, darkest depths of hell—that’s what he deserved. 

“I told you it would destroy everything in your life. I told you the secrets would kill us all. Why didn’t you listen?!” He roared, spit flying out of his mouth, his face bursting with rage—the rage of a guilty man. 

“You’re psychotic. You’ve lost it. You’ve lost it all, Sullivan. I understand the drugs and the loss. Believe me, I get it. But, why him? Why Charlie? How could you ever do such a thing? How could you do that to him? To me? To your brother?! Charlie is your brother’s son!” I screamed at the top of my lungs. 

Sullivan hung his head for a moment, never lowering his aim, but snapped his head back up. 

“He looked like Carson, my baby boy. I wanted more time with Carson. Charlie provided that for me.”

I scoffed at the absurdity of it all. It felt like I was in the worst nightmare I had ever experienced in my life. 

“That’s cruelty. That’s evil—pure evil!” I whispered. 

Sullivan was the evil of Ebony Lake. He was the evil force. 

“My family burning to their deaths was pure evil. What I’ve become is what was done to me. I’m sorry—I’m sorry for it all. Duncan’s dead, you know? I was forced to kill my brother. He never would’ve been able to live with the truth— neither can you and neither can I. After what has been done to us…how can we live any longer? Why would we want to?”

Sullivan took a deep breath, took the safety off of his revolver, took a step forward and drew his shoulders back, getting ready to shoot me. I froze up—my body was stiff. 

I couldn’t believe what I was hearing, I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. Every fiber in my being refused to accept that Duncan was dead, that Sullivan had abducted the children. It just didn’t make sense. In my world, it shouldn’t have happened—it should’ve never happened. 

“Don’t worry, Phoebe. I’ll take care of Charlie too.”

“NO!” I screamed. 

I didn’t want him anywhere near my son, but I couldn’t move, I was stuck in place. It felt like I was slowly sinking through quicksand, where I’d suffocate and die. Sullivan grimly nodded, acting like it was necessary to do what he planned to do. 

“Don’t scream, and don’t cry. It’s over. I’ll do you the favor. I’ll end your suffering.”

There was a deafening silence before the bang punctured the dark, tranquil sky. I shut my eyes and waited for the bullets to rip clean through my flesh, effectively killing me. I waited for what seemed like hours, my body grew tense, and then it relaxed. Was I dead? Was it all over? Was I floating away to the great, dark nothingness? 

“Not yet, Phoebe. Not yet.”

I felt a cool stream of air entering my nostrils. I was breathing. I was still standing. I was relieved to see that I was still alive. I opened my eyes and inspected my body. No bullet holes, no blood gushing out of me. 

I quickly glanced up and saw a massive, red hole in Sullivan’s skull. Blood squirted out of his head, as he fell to the ground with an audible thud, while his revolver clattered to the floor. I felt dizzy and my head was spinning from my near-death experience. My vision had blurred, but I was able to see Lucia with her pistol in hand, rushing inside Sullivan’s garage. Then, I heard another gunshot, what sounded like chains breaking apart. Soon after, she ran out with Kaya in her arms, tears pouring down her reddened, blubbering face. 

I breathed a sigh of relief and regained control of my body as Lucia dashed towards me with Kaya. I hugged them tightly and didn’t dare to let go. 

“Thank you, Lucia. Thank you. You…you saved my life. You saved me.”

“What about Duncan? Where’s Duncan?”

I let go and ran to where he was. I ripped the side door open and jumped into the van. Duncan was barely breathing as he spat out blood. Somehow he was still alive. I crouched down and tightly gripped his hand. I got beside him and plunged my face near his. 

“Phoebe…Phoebe?” Duncan mumbled weakly. 

I interlocked our fingers. 

“I’m here, honey. I’m here.”

He was in bad shape, but I needed to hear what he had to say—I feared they were his final words. 

“I…I…I can’t live with what he did. My brother…my brother…forgive him. Forgive Sully. I loved him. I loved my brother, but…I…I can’t live with that. He took him—he took Charlie.”

My tears fell onto his face as I held his hands as tightly as possible. I heard the ambulance sirens in the distance. They were going to arrive at any second. I needed Duncan to hang on—to stay alive. 

Somehow, someway, stay alive, Duncan.

“Stay with me, just stay with me. You’re going to be fine, you’re going to be okay. Charlie needs you, I need you. You can’t go just yet. It’s not your time,” I whispered with my voice shaky. 

Duncan briefly opened his eyes, looked at me and formed a smile. He was breathing heavily, fighting to stay alive.  

“I’m sorry. I love you. I…I love Charlie. I’ll always love you both. Be strong for him. Give him…give him a good life. I’m…I’m so sorry. I’m sorry about Sully. I love you. I love you all.”

I cupped his face in my hands and got even closer to him. 

“No, Duncan. No. You’re not going anywhere, stay with me. Stay with me!” I demanded. 

“I hear him, Phoebe. I hear him.”

“Hear who?”

“Charlie. I hear the music.”

Duncan’s stomach stopped rising and his breath stopped streaming out of his mouth. And just like that, he was gone. I gave him a long kiss on his cheek. I rose and took a deep breath. I had to stay strong. I had to be Charlie’s rock. He needed me more than ever after Duncan’s death. 

Lucia came to me while holding Kaya. She gave me a somber look as I shook my head at her. At that moment, I knew I could rely on her and stand shoulder to shoulder with her, as we helped each other pick up the pieces of our shattered lives. 

We needed each other and we couldn’t let each other go. Our lives were interlocked forever, we’d rise from the ashes of our loss and our despair—after all, we were mothers—we had to overcome any obstacles for our children. 

After everything we had been through; after all the secrets had been revealed and the truth finally uncovered, I wondered if it had been truly worth it. What if I had left it alone? Would Sullivan still be alive? Would Duncan be alive? Would Kaya? In the end, I decided that all of it had been worth it.

I had found my justice and my redemption, all at a great cost. 

EPILOGUE

Three years ago Sullivan found Charlie running away from home while he was driving back from a basketball gym. The sky was dark and it was raining hard. Sullivan did what any good uncle would do, he pulled over and asked him if he needed a ride back home.

“I’ll go with you, but I don’t want to go back home. I hate my mom. Don’t take me back there.”

“Alright kid, I won’t. Where do you want to go, then?”

Sullivan almost called Duncan but chose against it. He had been thinking about Carson that night—he missed him very much. The rain reminded him of what he always told his son: “Water the plants.” That was Sullivan’s way of telling him to continue working on his game and to continue to grow it—improve it. Carson had dreams of being a basketball player before his tragic passing. 

“You remind me of Carson, kid.” 

“My cousin?”

“Yeah, your cousin. I miss him, man. I miss him so much it hurts,” Sully said mournfully. 

Charlie was a good kid and he wanted to make his uncle happy. He hated seeing him sad. He knew him as the fun-loving uncle who liked to crack jokes. 

“What if I pretended to be Carson for the night?” Charlie offered.

At first, Sullivan thought the plan was ridiculous, but he considered the fact that Charlie was only 10 years old and he was just trying to be nice. Sullivan decided to accept his offer and took him back home. 

As Sullivan thought about it more and more, he decided to keep him for a while. He had such a good time watching basketball games, and playing video games with him, that he never wanted him to leave. Charlie didn’t mind at all, after all, he got to eat all the junk food he wanted and got to play whatever video games he wanted to play the entire night. 

When Charlie fell asleep, Sullivan got to work in his garage through the night. He created a classroom with a makeshift desk, some wooden chairs, a whiteboard drilled into the wall and a computer station with a swivel chair. He already had a foosball table, so he completed a play area by adding large yoga mats, a couple of dodge balls, a miniature basketball hoop, a pair of jump ropes and a tire swing attached to the roof. 

And just like that, he created a school and a play area for Charlie. When Charlie woke up the next morning, he didn’t expect still to be at Sullivan’s home. 

For a little while, Charlie was happy to stay with his uncle, skipping school and having a good time. After all, he was still learning, he was just being “home-schooled” by his “fun” uncle. 

Sullivan taught him regular school subjects and even encouraged him to play the flute with the help of instructional online videos. He had stolen this flute from Phoebe’s classroom—the one Phoebe thought she had trashed.

However, as time went by, Charlie started to wonder about going home. When he expressed this—it enraged Sullivan. To keep Charlie and continue with his delusion, he told him that his parents no longer wanted to see him, and that they were furious with him for storming out that fateful, rainy night. This greatly saddened Charlie, so he agreed to stay a little while longer. 

A little more time passed and the lonely, boring routine got to Charlie. Finally, he mustered up the courage to demand to go home. As a result, Sullivan decided to constrain him with chains since Charlie kept hounding him about his freedom. Charlie wanted to apologize to his parents and missed them. Sullivan wasn’t having any of it. 

What he had done was pure evil. He continued to call him Carson and pretended he was his dead son. Sullivan had convinced himself of his own selfish and psychotic delusions. Sullivan had become a monster of his own making. 

Whenever Duncan came over, Sully would disorganize the play area and would hide Charlie and later Kaya, in a storage closet deep inside the garage. He told Duncan that everything in the garage was memorabilia he had kept from his deceased twins. That’s how he hid his darkest secret. 

One evening, he saw Charlie crying himself to sleep while he was chained to the wall. It had already been three years—he had lied to Phoebe and his brother for three whole years. He knew he couldn’t withstand his own lies for much longer.

He decided he couldn’t take it anymore. He couldn’t see or speak with Duncan and Phoebe without feeling an immense amount of heart-wrenching guilt and shame. He couldn’t sleep anymore. He drank heavily and took a myriad of pills to quell his inner turmoil. He couldn’t keep up the facade any longer. 

He knew he needed to return Charlie to his family. He dropped him off at a nearby park and instructed him to walk back home to his parents. 

“I’m sorry, Carson. I mean—Charlie. I’m sorry, Charlie. What I did is unforgivable. I know I’m condemned to whatever hell I belong to, but you still can’t tell anyone what happened. You have to stay quiet or else I’ll be forced to burn your parents to death—I’ll burn you as well.” 

Charlie grimly nodded and then proceeded to finally walk back home after all this time. 

But as fate would have it, Sullivan started missing his children again. He started to miss Carina, his other twin child. 

He began noticing how Kaya would be alone at the park in the middle of the night. Sullivan would see her when he drove back home from the local basketball gym. This is where he’d shoot baskets, in an attempt to silence his inner demons and the heavy thoughts of his deceased family. 

On one of these nights, Sullivan offered her a place to stay. Kaya had been fed up with her parents fighting all the time, so she accepted. She knew him from school after all. She also knew his reputation, and she assumed he was a good man like all of her classmates would say. He was the funny teacher and the cool basketball coach. 

The cycle unfortunately began again with Kaya. At first, she stayed with him out of her own free will. As time went on, she was then eventually imprisoned, put in chains and re-named Carina, playing the part of Sullivan’s dead child. 

He had been able to play a double life, a sinister social skill he had developed to deal with his pain and guilt. He pretended that everything was fine on the outside, while on the inside, hell and demons plagued his mind. He was very similar to Billy Barnes in that respect. Two men who were able to hide behind a social facade, while being able to conceal what they were really doing behind closed doors. 

What Sullivan refused to accept was that he had caused the burning of his house, while he was high on poppers. He had stolen a supply from the RPL and the twins had come after him. When they came knocking at the door, instead of giving it back, he decided to burn the bag out of spite for Billy. In his own deluded chaos, he accidentally set the rest of the house on fire. The poppers were highly flammable due to their chemical composition, and he didn’t know that. 

The twins saw what he was doing and allowed him to create his own “demise.” They were shocked when they found out he had lived, but Billy commanded them to leave him alone—his entire family had been killed. Billy felt that Sullivan had received his lifelong karmic punishment for stealing from him.

Sullivan told himself over and over that it hadn’t been him, and to “resolve” his guilt and wrongdoing, he decided that the guilt lay at the feet of “evil forces.” Sullivan even mailed himself a letter that stated: “Stay out of the way or burn like the rest.” He did it to convince himself that Billy and the RPL had sent it to him as a warning. 

In short, Sullivan Solace had been the one responsible. He was the one who had burned down his home and his entire family. He wasn’t innocent. He was the culprit responsible for his own tragic doom.  

The Ebony Lake Police Department started to piece together Billy’s drug operations and hate crimes once they discovered Tommy and Timothy’s dead bodies near the Ebony Lake Clubhouse. It led them to find the secret stashes of poppers and piles of illicit cash inside the chained-up clubhouse. It had been a dirty, dark secret for a very long time. 

Billy had direct access because he had been the director of the Ebony Lake Community Center. The remains of his damaged laptop and an anonymous tip from Phoebe and Lucia explained some of Billy’s twisted motivations. He didn’t necessarily want to make money selling poppers, he wanted to spread poppers throughout the community like wildfire, hoping to “drug up” minorities.

He wanted a reason to boot them out of the community because he was a cruel, racist prick. Rodrick, Tommy and Timothy were mainly in it for the money. The police had concluded that the RPL had conspired to murder Conrad Fenix. They were also responsible for the vandalization and shooting of Lucia’s home—they were attempting to run her out of town, or kill her.   

Conrad’s murder had been a horrible tragedy and a brutal hate crime. The only regret the public expressed was that they were not around anymore to experience true justice for the atrocities the RPL had committed. They found some comfort in knowing the truth had been revealed and that they were no longer around to commit any more acts of cruelty. 

News about Sullivan’s kidnappings had been reported by the Ebony Lake Informer. It was a complete and utter shock to the small town, a horrific betrayal. It struck a critical blow to the community of Ebony Lake. 

Ebony Lake Academy planned on holding a memorial service for Duncan, they had received word of his passing. Regardless of the events that had transpired with Sullivan, they decided to honor him as well. They decided to focus on the contributions that he and his brother had made to the school and basketball team, instead of focusing on their awful tragedy. 

Caffrey had prepared a speech with the help of his English teacher. He spoke to a full crowd in the Ebony Lake Academy gym. Phoebe, Lucia, Charlie and Kaya were in attendance. The whole place was so silent, you could hear a pin drop. 

Caffrey positioned himself in front of the crowd on a podium in the middle of the basketball court. He had a microphone close to his mouth and read off the paper he had typed out: 

“First off, I’d like to thank the Ebony Lake Police Department for uncovering the horrible group of individuals who belonged to the evil that was known as the RPL. They had conspired to murder my father, an innocent man, and a man I miss every single day. They mercilessly ripped my dad from us. I have some comfort in knowing that they aren’t around to take anyone else away from their families.” 

Caffrey took a moment to compose himself then continued:

“I loved the Solace brothers like they were my uncles. Coach Duncan and Coach Sullivan, I’ll miss them forever. Coach Duncan was a grumpy man, but he had a heart of gold and he really cared about us outside of basketball. He was there for me when my father passed. I’ll never forget that and I’ll never forget him.” 

Caffrey took a second to clear his throat and to wipe the tears that quietly streamed down his face. Phoebe glanced at Lucia, her face was solemn. She felt deep sympathy for that young man’s struggle and so did Phoebe. She took Lucia’s hand and squeezed it. Lucia gave her a saddened look and managed a half-hearted smile. 

“Coach Sully was a funny guy and laid-back. Unfortunately, you all know what happened with his family. Despite that, he still tried his best to be the best coach he could be.” 

There was a silence. Caffrey looked above him, to the rafters. Duncan’s jersey was the only jersey left hanging—that’s where Sullivan’s jersey used to hang after it was retired. It was removed due to the unfortunate circumstances. 

He had played for Ebony Lake Academy alongside Duncan. They still held the best season record in the school’s history. It resulted in the only state championship in the entire sports history of the town.

Everyone remained quiet after the speech. There wasn’t much left to say. What’s done was done and they all had to process grief in their own way. But, they all had to move on eventually. That’s how life was. The community had lost so much, but it was time to heal. The evil had finally been extinguished from Ebony Lake. 

After the speech, Phoebe went home with Charlie. They were quiet. Duncan was heavy on their minds. What would they do without him? Their family was incomplete, they somehow needed to find a way to cope and move forward without him—it was a devastating loss. 

Charlie was in Phoebe’s music study. He was staring at her flute and carefully examining it. Phoebe embraced him and kissed him on his forehead. 

“I want Dad back.”

Charlie wiped his face and sniffled. 

“I’m so sorry, Charlie. I’m sorry about all this. You shouldn’t have to endure the loss of your father and your uncle in this way. Sullivan should’ve never kept you against your will. But, the past is in the past, and now we have to move on, somehow.”

Charlie put aside the flute and gave her a melancholic smile.

“Can’t get worse than this, huh?”

She scoffed, nodding her head in agreement. 

“When can we visit him again?” Charlie asked, his eyes wide and glossy.

“We can go tonight. We can visit him one last time before we pull the plug.”

Phoebe’s mind went adrift, her thoughts racing with alternate possibilities. She wondered if it had been meant to be. If Charlie never went missing, they would’ve never connected the way they did after he returned. It sounded horrible, but what if it had been a good thing all along? The three years without him had been hell, but what if the years ahead proved to be fruitful, and joyous? 

She finally had a close relationship with her son again, and they were on their way to rebuilding it. If Charlie hadn’t run away, Phoebe would’ve kept pushing him to the brink of insanity, and the cycle would’ve continued. Charlie would’ve hated his mother as much as Phoebe hated her mother. However, all of this came at a great cost—they had lost Duncan. 

As for Sullivan, unfortunately, he had become twisted and insane. He was just adept at hiding it. Phoebe believed it had been a combination of drugs, alcohol, his cold-hearted father and the great, tragic loss of his family. 

She thought about forgiving Sullivan to move on from her grief. In her heart, she knew that forgiving him, wasn’t for him, it was for her. 

What man wouldn’t go mad with grief and rage? At least in death, he had peace. He can neither hurt nor betray anyone ever again. And with that final thought, she found her peace. 

Meanwhile, Duncan was in a coma at the local hospital. The doctors and nurses had done all they could to bring him back from the brink of death. The situation had been hopelessly dire, and it had come to an end. He was set to die at any second. 

Until he didn’t. Duncan’s eyes fluttered open, as he heard a familiar voice echo in his ears. 

Can you hear the music, Dad? Can you hear it?

THE END.

THANK YOU READER!

Thank you so much for reading THE NIGHT THEY TOOK MY SON! If you loved this book, be sure to stay subscribed to my newsletter for free books, updates about future books and more!

Sign up at spencerguerreroauthor.com!

PLEASE REVIEW!

Please do not forget to leave a review on Amazon, Goodreads, and other social media platforms! Your reviews are always read by me and greatly appreciated!

You can follow me on Instagram, Facebook, Goodreads and Amazon!

Instagram: @spencergauthor

Facebook: @Spencer Guerrero – Author

MORE BOOKS AVAILABLE!

I have FIVE other standalone psychological mystery-thriller novels OUT NOW!

MY SON IS A MURDERER, MY FATHER IS A SERIAL KILLER, MY WIFE’S STALKER, A MURDER IN THE NEIGHBORHOOD and MY MOTHER-IN-LAW MUST DIE!

They’re available in paperback/digital formats on Amazon and on Kindle Unlimited!

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

Iwant to give a huge shout out and thanks to my family for supporting me and encouraging me throughout my long journey of wanting to be a writer and an author. Mom, Dad, Sebastian, and Sophia. There has been a lot of ups and downs. There were even times where I wanted to give up and was frustrated beyond understanding. You could’ve easily shot down my dreams and tell me that I would never make it. That has never been the case and I’m very lucky for that. I love you guys and I appreciate you!

There are a lot of other people who have given me words of encouragement and support in other ways. Please know that I appreciate you all! Whether you recommend my books to your friends, or you spread the word in general — thank you so much for your support!

To my new and loyal readers, you are the lifeline. You are the reason I write books. You are the reason why I’m so passionate to get these stories out there. I’m very lucky to have you all. I read and appreciate every single review beyond measure. I love writing books and I love being able to share mine with you all!

A BIG thank you to all Facebook Book Groups for your support! “Psychological Thriller Readers”, 2x “Psychological Thrillers Book Club”, “Sarah’s Book Club”, “Tattered Page Book Club”, “Bookmark Baddies”, “Linda and Friends Book Club.”

I also want to express my immense gratitude and thanks to my exemplary ARC READERS! Thank you for always reading, reviewing, recommending, sharing and posting about my books! You guys are AWESOME!

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

My name is Spencer Guerrero. I was born and raised in Florida, and I am of Nicaraguan descent. I am a self-published author and writer of domestic/psychological mystery-thrillers and suspense-thrillers.

I used to be a freelance screenwriter and was hired to write a religious sci-fi/fantasy book adaptation, an animated Christmas film script, three short films and other work that included writing and outlining stories for licensed animated characters. 

I decided to switch avenues so I could focus on the type of stories I wanted to write. Self-publishing looked like the best route, and I haven’t looked back since. 

My favorite genres are historical fiction, mystery-thriller, fantasy, and literary fiction. Other than that, I like funny cat memes, dark comedies and I play basketball!