Ghost Bird Fanfiction: Sang's Lyric, The Story of Sang Sorenson's Mother

Ninety Minutes

Taylor's Point of View

I roared up to the house. Connie and Dr. Roberts both gave me looks of disappointment when the tires squealed.

"The plan Taylor?" Dr. Roberts asked.

He'd been moving me forward since the hospital. I had my ten minutes and now it was time to act. I was feeling out of character; out of my mind. Planning was what I did. I thought, I planned, I executed. Now I just wanted to execute.

I took a deep breath, clearing my mind of Lyric and what had happened at school, and focused only on the dirt bag behind those doors. I looked up the driveway, and at the garage that was open, and empty. I looked at the house. The curtains were wide open, and there was a light left on in the kitchen. I could see through the picture window without even leaving the car.

"He's gone," I muttered in disbelief.

Connie opened her door and got out. Dr. Roberts followed and I did a moment later, shaking myself from the stupor of incredulity. I pushed open the door and stepped onto the grass. Already the property had that weird feeling of abandonment. A garden hose was still laying on the lawn. I could see a bicycle pump in the garage.

Connie tried the door. "It's open," she said, and walked inside.

Dr. Roberts followed and I trailed in last. No one was here. There were dirty footprints tracking through the house, all different sizes, mostly boots, which made me think that they'd hired movers. No one could move this fast without help. I walked through the living room, into the kitchen, opening cabinets, looking under the sink.

Connie walked up the stairs and Dr. Roberts followed.

"There's nothing here," she called down.

Dr. Roberts appeared behind me. "It's empty. They didn't leave anything important behind. We'll have someone look through the records, see if they left a forwarding address." 

I shook my head. "I'm sure they didn't. Let's go," I directed, my desire to be with Lyric overwhelming my desire to kill Garret.

We filed out of the house and into the car.  Constance's phone pinged as we got in, and I looked at her, waiting for the news.

"They're at Mason's office," she said, and then added reluctantly, "Lyric asked about you."


I backed out of the driveway quickly, and headed out of the development. "How is she?" I asked.

"He's not updating on her well-being, just where they are, Taylor," she told me.

I ran my hand through my hair as I waited at a stoplight.

"Ninety minutes," I said to myself.

I could be there in ninety minutes.