No Regrets

Chapter Forty-Seven - Where Can the Truth Be Found

KATIE'S POV

   Yesterday was difficult, to say the least, I'm not sure anyone was truly able to sleep. We left the courthouse a lot later into the evening than preferred; but separating the Wiltons from Mollie took time. I almost suggested using a crowbar. Dominick didn't speak much on the ride home. I didn't know what to say, so I pretended to be asleep until I eventually drifted off.

   My short rest wasn't peaceful, and I was half-awake the entire time. I heard the music from the radio and Mollie's babbling, but I was also out of touch. When we got home, my parents briefly discussed ordering some food; but no one was hungry. Or at least, no one admitted to being hungry. I went straight upstairs, took a shower and went to my room.

   By ten o'clock, everyone was in their rooms for the night. However, somehow I knew no one was asleep. I'd hear an occasional noise from Dominick's room, a murmur of his voice or Mollie's cry. Around three in the morning, I gave up trying to make myself tired and fall asleep. I, as quietly as I could, made my way over my desk. I ended up tripping over the pair of shoes I'd carelessly kicked off and left in the middle of my room. The result of my fall was a loud thump.

"You okay?" Dominick's alert voice sounded from his room.

"Totally." I responded. I waited for a reply but none came.

   Sitting at my desk, I debate what else to do on the computer. I've already watched a few funny videos in attempt to raise my spirits, checked the school-calendar, and even a little extra work on a paper not due for another week. You haven't checked your email since... Two weeks ago? I tell myself. I'm not a huge fan of checking emails, because my inbox is either a barren-virtual-wasteland or is flooded with spam, schoolwork, and emails from relatives who haven't spoken to me in years but want to know every detail. Any better ideas? I ask myself before typing in the web address. A few seconds later, my email page pops up and, not to my surprise, I have an inbox with unread emails.

  There are only unread two emails out of twenty-seven that aren't spam. I quickly dispose of the spam before making my way back to the actual emails. Uncle Frank sent his usual monthly newsletter; which is basically a long email full of what's been going on his life. He's moving, yet again, due to work and is going to be even farther away. He sends his love and best wishes to everyone who's received his email, which include almost every member of the extended family.

  The other email is just a link sent from Mom, the link goes to a video that she though I'd enjoy. I'm fixing to log off when I hear a ding. The noise slightly startles me. For a second, I'm unsure where the noise came from. I check around my room, but then I notice the a tiny pop-up window at the corner of the screen. It's a chat-screen box. The sender is an email address I don't recognize, the message reads, "Katie? U up?"

  I'm about to block the address when another message pops up. "It's Christopher". My fingers move away from the mousepad and fly to the keyboard. However, instead of typing a message they hover over the keys. After yesterday, I don't really feel like interacting with any member of the Gribes family. Not to mention, I'm not even sure about how I feel. I was obviously furious and hurt at first; but now, I'm just conflicted and confused.

  I begin to type out a reply, a long one, but something keeps me from sending it. I erase the whole message and try again. Two more messages, both deleted after being typed, each time the message getting shorter. Christopher sends me another instant message.