The Last Great American Dynasty

Chapter 1

The day the first letter came, the weather was perfect.

Gentle golden sun had been beating down on Alessia all afternoon whilst she lounged in the backyard of her small Rhode Island home with a cocktail in her hand. Summer had come pleasantly early this year, and Alessia was going to enjoy every moment. In the distance, Van Doren House loomed constant in the shivering mirage-like air. Squeezing her eyes shut, Alessia let the warmth soak into her skin and prayed she would finally get a tan. She groaned as her dog barked frantically from somewhere within the house.

In the cooler space that was her kitchen, Alessia's glass hit the counter with a clink beside her discarded glasses. Swapping the sunglasses for the ones on the countertop, she blinked away the brightness and moved through the hallway. Her cocker spaniel, Milo, wagged his tail happily and scratched at the front door. Crouching, Less gave Milo a stroke in a last-ditch attempt to calm him down as a figure danced behind the door. For a while, the figure just stood there, as if waiting for someone to appear and catch them. But seemingly, as soon as they appeared, they disappeared again.

Milo woofed quietly, and Less silenced him with a glance. Hesitantly, Alessia opened the door, careful not to let Milo out, knowing he would bolt if given the smallest chance. Carefully shutting the door behind her, Alessia scanned the surroundings, searching for where the figure could have gone. Not even the anti-glare coating on her glasses couldn't combat the brightness refracting off her neighbour's windows. There was a glint in the shrubs off the side. But before Less could look further, she felt the crunch of paper underfoot. A small brown envelope was crumpled under her sneakers. Slipping it into the pocket of her shorts, Alessia shot a confused glance back at the familiar and unchanging backdrop of her neighbourhood.

Inside, Alessia took a sip of her drink as her phone began to ring loudly on the counter beside her. Her mom. Thank fuck.

"Hi, mom." Alessia said, breathing a sigh of relief.

"Hello my love." Her mother's frail voice was quite at the other end of the phone.

"How's your day been so far?" Alessia asked, trying to ignore how tired her mom sounded. That had been happening more and more since the diagnosis. Like when you believe you're ill to the point where your body actually makes you ill, maybe that's what was happening to her mother. The doctors told her she should be tired, so her body was making her.

"Oh, it's been okay." The lie was clear as day, but Alessia didn't admit she heard it.

"That's nice," she said instead. "It's warm today. Did you get out?"

Silence. Dead silence.

What a stupid question. Of course she didn't get out. The doctors wouldn't let her go out, she was too sick, too susceptible to infections others would brush off. But she didn't have much time left anyway.

"Sorry," Alessia apologised. "That was stupid, I didn't think-"

"It's okay, my love, I don't mind." Alessia felt the tears brimming behind her eyelids. "Did you enjoy it?"

"Yeah, I did." Suddenly, the letter felt like lead in her pocket, and she wondered whether she should mention it.

Oh sure, tell a dying person that you think you're being stalked. Sure, that will reasure them.

"Good. I'm glad. I just wanted to call and hear your voice."

"Mom, don't do that." Alessia warned.

"You know what they said, my love. Six months. Five months ago."

"Mom, I can't lose you. Please." Tears slowly slipped from the corners of her cheeks, and her lip quivered. "I- I'll come visit, i promise."

But her mom had already hung up.

"I love you too," Alessia said emotionlessly, setting her phone down and feeling just a little empty.

Sliding her hand into her pocket, Alessia's fingers brushed the corner of the envelope. Withdrawing it, she attempted to smooth the creased material. The front simply read:

To whom this reaches.

In neat curling writing that Alessia struggled to read. Opening it carefully, she drew out the gently folded slip of paper. An entire page of the same curling hand. And at the top, it said her name.

How the fuck did this person know her by name?

Alessia pushed the millions of racing possibilities to the back of her mind, feeling vaguely ill. Air rushed into her lungs as she summoned up the courage to keep reading.

Dear Alessia Blair,

If you're reading this, then I have found the right person. If you are reading this and Alessia Blair is not your name, I encourage you to look away.

Alessia unfolded the letter further to reveal an entire page of spidery writing.

Alessia, though you don't know me and likely never will, I most certainly know you. Well, I know of you. I know someone who knows you. But that doesn't matter anymore. All that matters is that you have found this letter. All that matters is that you keep reading.

- Van Doren House, Watch Hill