Maya (Book #3)

Chapter 41

I left the room slowly and stepped into the hall, unprepared for part two of my mission. I had frequented my uncle's bedroom when I lived here so I avoided that room, for now. I didn't believe there was anything in there except for clothes and his work stuff. It was his office that I would explore next.

I walked down the short hallway towards the door and shuddered involuntarily. This was the room that I was never allowed to enter. I had been inside before, as most mischievous children would do, but the trouble I got into taught me a lesson. It felt like a crime to enter now and moving past the doorframe might've caused a panic attack if I wasn't breathing so deeply.

I pushed open the door gently with my fingertips, half expecting him to be sitting in the black swivel chair in the corner. But the room was empty and still as if it had sat here untouched for a while.

I breathed in and the smell from the hallway brushed by me, stronger in this room than anywhere else. My stomach twisted into knots, and I bounced up and down in my spot on the carpet, fearful of taking another step. 

I closed my eyes and moved forward as Charlotte's words rang through my ears. Avoidance increases anxiety. I kept my pace with my eyes squeezed shut and smiled as I realized I was inside.

When I opened my eyes, I was beside my uncle's desk, which seemed as good a place to start my search as anywhere. I sat in the chair hesitantly and began pulling open drawers, looking for clues. There were office supplies and paperwork from bills that I recognized the name of in the first drawer, but nothing important. The next drawer held files and I flicked through the titles, but nothing stood out. I offered a cursory glance at each file's contents, but they didn't seem to hold anything critical either. There was no file labeled for birth certificates and nothing with my name on it or his. I slammed the last drawer shut in disappointment. Had he gotten in here and removed everything before the police searched the place? Where would he hide something that might tell us where he was, or what he was doing?

I looked in the cabinet beside his desk to find empty drawers that kicked up dust into my face with each pull open. I shut them as disappointment filled my chest. We wouldn't find anything. I didn't know why we even bothered.

I walked to his closet next, expecting to find suit jackets or more unremarkable files. While those things were lying dormant in the closet, there was an unmarked clear box that I didn't recognize at the top of the closet. It was sitting at an angle on the top shelf, with a corner poking out as if someone had hit it forward in their haste to grab something else. I wanted to call for one of my brothers to help me tug it down, but I had an urge to do this by myself.

I stood up on my tiptoes and stretched my right arm up, just grazing the handle on the box with my middle finger. I poked it as I tried to grab it and ended up pushing it farther back into the closet's depths. I huffed as I dropped my arms and chose a new course of action. I backed up a couple of steps and leaped into the air, banging my arm on the shelf but swiping the box a little bit closer. With one more reach, I had the handle wrapped tightly in my hand and yanked it down.

It was lighter than I thought it would be and I managed to get it down without any trouble. I placed it on the floor softly and sat with my legs crossed as I examined it. My hair fell into my eyes as I cracked it open like a briefcase and looked inside. There were multiple small clear boxes that each held a handful of pictures, maybe three to a box.

I popped the first one open with a loud snapping sound and lightly slipped the pictures out. There was one of me as a little girl, wearing a pink dress. I was smiling on the couch, and my hair was in curls. I flipped to the next one to see me playing in the backyard, bending over to pick a bright red leaf off the ground. The next one was a picture of me asleep on my bed. I wore a dress that had bunched up higher than I would've liked to see it, but still covered me well. I breathed out a sigh of relief that these pictures weren't alarming, despite wishing for evidence of abuse. The truth was, I looked pretty happy as a child. 

The next box had a picture of me crying, and the other was me in a car seat. They all seemed traditional and didn't have anything that might've offered an idea to my uncle's whereabouts or terrible habits.

I glanced through the next box, expecting nothing. There was a photo of me sitting in a restaurant and one of me playing in a park of some kind. The last one caught my eye, so I examined it a little more closely. I seemed to be barely a couple of years old and was standing in some sort of grassy field. What caught my eye about this photograph was my smile. I was smiling in a way I didn't recognize. I was looking at someone that must have been off-camera, and my eyes were practically glittering with joy. My smile was wide across my face and my shoulders were relaxed. I looked completely thrilled, on the brink of laughter.

 I heard my name being called from downstairs, so I called back that I was coming and jammed the photo in my pocket. I didn't know why I wanted to keep it, but I needed to.

I swiped the plastic box back up onto the shelf, pushing it into a new spot. A small photo drifted down from the shelf, and I struggled to catch it like a kitten playing with yarn. I pinched it between my fingers just before it hit the ground. I lifted it up and saw a picture that had been badly damaged. I nearly threw it in the waste bin before pausing. Why did my uncle keep this picture? Why did he have it in the first place?

The picture was heavily faded and clearly water-damaged. There were white splotches covering most of the picture and the edge appeared to be torn like it was pulled from something in a rush. I bent it, trying to hold the image up to the light so I could make out what the photo was supposed to show.

It looked like it used to be a photo of my uncle, but all that was visible now was his right leg and a part of his arm. I could see the general shape of his face and body despite the damage, but I didn't think the photo would be valuable for the police. I almost set it down before realizing there was another person in the photo. I could just barely make out a small shape resting in his arms. It appeared to be me as a baby, brown eyes wide and brown hair already sprouting on my head. I brushed my thumb along it, wanting to erase myself from that picture and his hands. 

Although I wasn't sure why, I tucked it safely into my pocket and sprinted down the stairs to meet with my family.

"Find anything?" I asked, looking at their forlorn faces. Charlotte and Caleb shook their heads while the others stared with frustration at the floor.

"You?" Dominic asked with hope in his eyes. I shook my head and stuck my hands in my back pocket, ensuring that the pictures were still safe. While they were fascinating to me, I was sure they weren't evidence in any kind of case against my uncle.

Dominic nodded his head towards the door and led us out while Charlotte said something about us getting a chance to visit later in the week and that we shouldn't give up hope.

As we walked to the door with our shoulders slumped, bumping into one another, it certainly seemed like we already had.