Fiona's POV:
Stretching my limbs out I head out of the small hotel we were staying at, Lina's Homey Rooms. What a cheesy name I think as I walk idly down the cracked pavement roads. Even though the town's roads had been paved a decade ago, they were now cracked and in desperate need of repair. It was close to winter now and the trees were all dead, except for a few clusters of Evergreens, and the air was rather chilly, more so than it had been at home. I wrap my thin leather jacket tightly around me, wishing for a cup of hot chocolate and missing home.
But, I wasn't giving up that easily! First, I decided, I was going everywhere mom mentioned in her letters starting with her school. Surely, they'd still have some kind of record about her right? So, with my energy renewed, I walked down Oak Lane till I reached the small wooden structure. The school had been closed down for years now but, the building still stood and was now used for different activities for the community. A dirt smudged sign is pegged into the ground next to the school. The words, Senior's Bingo Night Wed-Sat 4:30pm are scrawled in a tight cursive writing. I looked up at the building, examining the frosted in windows and contemplated my choices. It wasn't even two yet so, would anyone be there? Oh well. I knock onto the door and lean against the wall, my hands shoved into my pockets.
I'm about to turn around after a few minutes but just then the door swings in letting in the yellow glow of light from indoors. A woman stands in a plaid dress, clutching a white shawl closely to her, and light blonde hair. "Hello?" She says. Her eyes are half hidden behind her glasses, not to mention her bangs slide to hide her face. I automatically think she's shy. "Um, excuse me but, my name's Fiona Helen Richards. This use to be a school right?" I ask nervously. The atmosphere was rather awkward.
The woman nods slowly, opening the door wider, allowing me entrance. "Y-yes. I'm Kitara Granville. What is it that you want to know?" My eyes widen at her name as I step inside the warm hallway, pulling off and hanging my jacket. "Granville?" I ask, surprised. Surely, she couldn't actually be related to mom's third grade teacher and Grandma Helen's second husband, right? Kitara smiles warmly. The kind of smile you had on when you were remembering fond memories. "Yes. Granville." And with that she heads down the long white hall, her feet striding happily ahead, until we reach a sort of common area.
Plush armchairs and wooden tables fill the space, a small lamp the only source of light with the blinds drawn tight, and stacks of folders and big books strewn everywhere. I lightly step over a pile of Philosophy novels and H.P Lovecraft books and 'Paranormal Sightings 1'. Wow. I stand awkwardly in front of a green armchair and watch as Kitara paces in front of me, mumbling to herself. She stops suddenly, spinning around to face me, and gives me a nervous half smile I recognize as forced right away. "Would you like a cup of coffee? Fiona was it?" I nod slowly and she disappears into another door before coming back with a steaming Styrofoam cup.
"Now," She says lightly, sinking down into the chair next to me, which I'd sat into to carefully drink my beverage. "What is it that you came here for?" I take in a deep breath. From the looks of things Kitara seemed to be a bit of a paranormal fantic so, she'd probably wouldn't think I was crazy. "My mother," I finally get out. For some odd reason this felt hard to do. Kitara tilts her head in motherly concern and I try not to think about how mom used to do that whenever she thought I was hurting. "She used to go to this school. I was wondering... if you still had her files tucked away somewhere?" I knew the answer was most likely no. When schools closed they had to send all the student's records to state but, I so wanted that to not be it.
Kitara furrows her brow in thought. "You wouldn't happen to be..." She starts, looking me in the eye, her blonde hair pushed back to reveal the same green eyes as my mother. As me. "Katherine Smith's daughter? Would you?" I jolt up with a start, nearly spilling my coffee onto my jeans and look at her, "Yes. Why? Who...are you?" I ask again. She had the same eyes, that familiar name. She had to be related somehow. "Kitara Granville. Just like I said. My father married Helen Smith and they had me. Dad died awhile back so now I'm here. Working in the building he use to everyday," My eyes widened and I spilled my coffee. I didn't even feel the painful heat as it runned down the chair.
