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CHAPTER 26

A nightmare blights my sleep.

Except it's not my usual nightmare. This one is visceral and memorable and I can feel my body acting out as it draws on. My hands pelt, legs kicking as I attempt to destroy my opponent. Then I awake to the feeling of Reece shaking me awake as I fight. My arms ache from the tight grip he has on my biceps and it takes me more than a few seconds to gather my breathing and relax my muscles.

Disoriented, I try not to scream when I hear my ringtone blare.

"It's your mum," Reece passes my phone to me and I debate on whether I should answer. Considering my mother only called during emergencies, I know immediately something bad has happened.

I pick up the phone.

"Karma," my mother yells. I can tell by her loud voice she's using the handset in the car. "How are you?"

"I'm okay ma, how are you?" I hide my surprise.

"I'm on my way to church," she answers – the hum of the engine a backing track to her words. "Do you plan on going to church today?"

I didn't even realise it was Sunday.

I bite my lip. "Of course."

"Mm, are you sure?" I can tell by her tone, she is unconvinced.

"Yes I was about to leave any minute now," I embellish.

"Hmm." I hear a tapping sound and imagine her fingers drumming against the leather steering wheel in frustration, her nostrils flaring at my dishonesty.

"I swear."

A moment of silence stretches and I know she is biting her tongue to keep from cursing me out.

"So what is this package you have sent to my house?" She changes the subject.

I stretch a pause. "Sorry?"

"A package came to the house."

"What was it?"

"I don't know, I don't intend on opening it."

"Why, is it mine? Was it addressed to me?"

I try not to enter panic mode.

"There is no forename. The surname is not Olson, it is my birth surname."

My skin bristles.

Olson was the surname that both I and my mother used for most of our documentation: this included school, university, church, socially. Besides our birth certificates and some hospital records which of course only a few of people had access to, we were most widely known as the Olsons.

"Oh."

"Indeed."

I hear her inhale an irritated breath like the storytellers do when they're about to begin the opening of a fairy-tale but no words come out.

"Clearly you've been talking to someone about our personal business."

I think back.

I'd only told Damon what I had to tell him regarding my father's case – I'd always made sure to omit my mother's role and presence. It was strictly business with him. Perhaps the package was from an old relative who figured out our address after so many years? With the recent increasing media coverage surrounding my father's case, it made sense that extended family may want to make contact to check on our welfare. Mother had distant relatives she hadn't engaged with in so long, it's possible they had tracked us down, tracked me down. People could do that nowadays.