Kingdom Come (Book 1)

Chapter Fifteen:

Alice pulled her beige Yugo into the driveway, the street hushed under the heavy sky. She turned off the engine and sat still, letting the quiet settle around her. School had dragged on, everyone eager to leap into the next chapter of their lives. But Alice's thoughts were tangled in wedding plans, college decisions, and Celia's relentless insistence on daily workouts and skincare routines. It was exhausting.

She chuckled softly, imagining Clayton mid-flight, grumbling about cramped seats and noisy passengers. The thought of his long legs stretched into the aisle made her smile. She missed him already. His house had a "For Rent" sign on the lawn when she passed it earlier, and now his truck sat in her driveway, a silent reminder of his absence. The emptiness gnawed at her—no trace of him left behind.

Ruth had visited yesterday, her goodbye brief and quiet. She was heading to meet Clayton and Samuel, and Alice had been grateful for the shared silence over coffee at the kitchen table. It was rare to find comfort in such stillness.

The chirping of birds above broke her reverie, their calls faint against the silver-white sky. Rain was coming. Alice reached into her bag and pulled out the gold locket, its cool surface grounding her. Her parents' photos stared back at her, their smiles frozen in time. For a moment, she forgot where she was, until the locket slipped from her fingers and landed on the car floor with a soft thud.

"Shit," she muttered, unclipping her seatbelt to retrieve it. After a frustrating search, her fingers brushed against the locket—and something else. A hidden compartment behind her father's photo revealed a folded strip of paper. She unfolded it carefully, her breath catching as she read the scribbled numbers. A phone number.

Questions flooded her mind. Who would answer if she called? Why had this been hidden? She climbed out of the car, the quiet house welcoming her as she unlocked the door and turned on the hallway lights.

Her mother's laptop sat in the living room, and Alice hurried to it, tripping over the carpet in her haste. She ignored the sting in her knees as the screen flickered on, displaying a photo of her and her mother at the park when she was four. The memory was too much, and she quickly opened the inbox, scrolling through emails for any kind of lead.

School messages. Junk mail. Nothing stood out until she saw an email from Fredrick Booth, dated the day her mother had died. Her heart raced as she clicked it open. Three words stared back at her: Call me, Alison.

She compared the number in the email to the one on the strip of paper. They matched. Taking a deep breath, Alice folded the note and tucked it back into the locket, hearing the soft click as it closed. Not yet, she thought, shutting down the laptop. The silver machine seemed to watch her as the night stretched on.

*****

"What are you going to do?" Celia whispered, her voice barely carrying above the quiet hum of the refrigerator. She held the small piece of paper delicately, as though afraid it might bite. The locket lay open in the center of the kitchen table, a silent witness to their conversation.

It was a Wednesday late afternoon—Bridal Day.

The date was set for December thirty-first, ten months away. Clayton had insisted on a New Year's wedding, and Alice had obliged. She'd even found a venue with incredible views, the State Room, just days ago. Now all that remained was to see if Clayton would approve—his reply to her text was still pending.

Fabric swatches sprawled across the table, abandoned after Alice's half-hearted attempts to coordinate colors. Celia, ever the overzealous maid of honor, had deemed china patterns next week's battle. The thought alone made Alice stifle a groan.