Through The Ascension Room***Book One COMPLETE***

CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO ~PART FOUR~

It takes me a moment to come back to my senses. It was as if hearing those words put some new found emphasis on our purpose and plan of action. Once my senses return to their rightful place I am free to use them again, to my own discretion.

"How is that possible?" I ask; my voice trying hard to deceive the others of my pure shock and surprise.

"Yeah, what's up with that? You hiding something from us? I don't care how madly in love Alex is with you—," Tristis stops short with a touch from Cynthia. She grips his arm in her hands and it acts like a kill switch to Tristis' anger.

My cheeks begin to burn red with embarrassment. I know it's not necessarily a shocker that I like Aubri, but it's not easy the first time you hear it professed in front of the other person.

Butterfly jitters fill my stomach and I shift in my seat trying to exterminate them. She on the other hand seems unfazed by the proclamation of love and continues to explain how she knows my father.

"He was a regular in the diner. Would always ask for my section. Came in nearly every Monday, eight a.m. almost on the dot," she says looking like she was in the process of examining months and months of memory data in her head. Her stare fixed on nothing in particular, eyes glazed over unblinking for minutes at a time.

"What did he say? Did he say anything? Did you guys ever talk? What—," each time I try to get the question out it never seems to encompass what I am asking quite right.

"We never really talked about too much in particular. Most of it was light-hearted small talk. You know, the weather, sports, movies, books and stuff like that," she continues to think.

"Did she ever mention anything about Alex? Or a son?" Cynthia asks trying to help her in her thought process.

"What kind of books did he talk about? And the movies, which ones did he talk about?" Tristis asks and I'm not sure if he's being serious or asking irritating questions on purpose. I don't really care enough to think too long about it.

"I don't remember the books or—, the necklace!" Her face freezes in place and for a moment I think she might be having a heart attack. She remains still for almost ten seconds stuck with the same expression on her face.

"Necklace?" Tristis asks.

"He gave me something. One of the last times he was in the diner. He was acting real strange. Asking me if we were friends; if he could trust me. I didn't really think much of it. I thought he was just having a bad day or something. I told him that we were friends. That he could trust me. Then out of nowhere he gave me this—this necklace he had pulled out of his pocket. When he handed it to me he said that it belonged to his son. Attached to the end of it was a key of some sort," she explained.

"What was the key to? Did he tell you?" I ask trying not to sound overwhelming with my question even though I wanted to know everything she knew in that very moment, all at once.

I wanted to somehow get inside her mind and not have to wait for her to retrieve the information. I felt so close to finally understanding something, I didn't want anything to be lost to chance or overlooked. Everything could be riding on the information she has right now. It could mean the difference between finding out my father's location and being captured by the Sumus Exitium. I want so badly to tell her how much is riding on her remembering everything. I suppress the urges to bombard her in that moment and instead wait patiently for something else to come to fruition for her.

"No. All he said was that it belonged to his son," her eyes begin to remove the haze of concentration and she blinks a few times in rapid succession signaling the shutdown of deep thought. The termination of information. The end to our progress.