*A man desperate to find his biological mother discovers she belonged to a secret society of people infected with a bizarre virus whose disastrous side effects she struggles to overcome.*
In the year 2043, Beau Johan's only hope of surviving a termi...
She didn't sleep. When the first rays of light filtered in through her bedroom window, she was awake and watching the shadows on her walls.
Tom woke, showered, ate breakfast, and left without acknowledging or speaking to her.
Conjuring strength, she forced herself to rise and retrieve Sabian's card from her jewelry box. She cupped it in her hands like it was a magical gemstone capable of transporting her to his side. She stared at his neat and calligraphy-like script. Ten numbers. All she had to do was type them into the phone and he would send for her. She could be in California by nightfall.
She picked up the phone on Tom's nightstand and carried it back to her room, latching the door behind her. She stared at the phone. There were strings attached. Invisible strings.
She looked at the card again and then closed her eyes and took a deep breath.
The phone rang. She jumped, startled, and stared at it, for a moment unsure what to do with it. She pressed the talk button. "Hello?"
"Just the person I wanted to speak with." Her Aunt Rose's voice was calm and pleasant. She and Tom must have decided this was the next course of action. Anna braced herself. "You want to have lunch with me today? I have a break between clients."
They were definitely in cahoots, Anna decided. "Uh," she wavered. "I can't."
"You can't?"
"I have a job interview." She cringed.
"An interview? Where?" Rose poorly hid her shock.
"At the grocery store. In the bakery section," she quickly added.
She spun her aunt off her intended footing. "Okay," was all she said, and then she added, "We'll do it another time."
"Sounds good."
"Good luck with your interview."
They hung up, and Anna sighed. She had planned to hole up in her room and work on her composition, but now she had to leave for a few hours to complete the lie.
She hated lying, but what other choice did she have? If she met with Rose, she'd have to spin even more lies. She pondered her options as she drove through Ithaca for the last time.
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Anna pulled into the driveway late, past dinner, late enough that Tom stood at the picture window in the living room waiting for her. She turned off the car and gathered her breath and thoughts. Thunder rolled in the distance and drops of rain splattered onto the windshield.
She went into the house before the downpour started.
"Where have you been?" He stood between the living room and hallway, waiting for her.
