Find Me

19 • Soon

The moment I wake, I know that someone has been in my room again. The first clue is the cold draft from the open window, and the second is the fact there's another white rose on my bedside table. He certainly hadn't wasted any time after the Agent Callaway's visit, that's for sure.

I flip on the lamp sitting on my bedside table and toss the rose in the garbage. I know Callaway would want me to keep it for evidence, but I don't think I can stand to look at it for any longer than five seconds.

Then, as I reach over to turn the light off again, my eyes catch the corner of another slip of paper, which had been half-concealed by the rose. Frowning, I scoop it off the table and open the creases; it's almost like deja vu.

My breath catches in my throat as I read the message, printed carefully in red ink, just like his last letter.

'Your mother knows why.'

Your mother knows why...what does that mean? I don't know how to interpret it. Is he talking about the date he left me in our last phone conversation? June 20th, 2000?

Shakily, I stuff the note under my pillow. I should at least show the letter to Callaway...considering I'm not going to mention anything more about the roses.

I check my phone, looking for the time. It's then that I notice I had received a text around midnight, and I can't resist checking it.

"Crap," I whisper when it brings up an unknown number. The message sends shivers down my spine, the hairs of my neck stick up straight on my skin. Two taunts in one night...good luck trying to sleep Melanie.

'You look so beautiful when you sleep...has anyone ever told you that?'

Deleting the message quickly, I turn off the light and hide under the covers, praying for morning to come soon.

•••

It's hard not to question Mom about the note the next morning. During breakfast, she doesn't talk, making it even harder to keep quiet. I need more information before I talk to her about it...I'm hoping my stalker will allow a few more things to slip out about that night he desperately wants me to know about. For some reason, I feel it may have something to do with my father, but I can't be sure.

A few hours later, Mom announces she's going for a walk. After yesterday's chat, I am not allowed to leave the house at all, no matter the circumstances. Yes, I had pointed out I would need to leave the house if there was a fire, but Mom only glared at me.

"Okay, I'll be here," I mutter from the sofa.

She gives me a hard look. "No visitors. If I see that boy Xander here ever again--"

"--Mom," I interrupt. "It's Xavier, not Xander."

I know I ticked her off when she grits her teeth together. "I don't care what his name is. You are not to come within twenty feet of that boy, do you understand?"