The Chronicle of the Three Trilogy (SAMPLE)

Chapter 1

 Zoe stepped onto the smooth wooden floor; her delicate hand gripped the barre. The soft music echoed off the mirrors and over her skin, propelling her into movements that matched its grace. First position, second, plié. Stretching, swaying and then stepping away from the barre, she let the music move her across the floor.

She began to spin, turning over and over, the mirrors and floor now swirling around her until they became rain-spattered windows against the dark night sky and flashing blue and red lights. The music was now replaced by sirens and screams all swirling in her mind as she turned and turned and then crashed into a heap on the dance floor, her head falling in her hands as she cried.

When her tears stopped, she looked up to catch her reflection in the mirrored wall, approaching it with caution, like a stranger. The girl staring back at her was wearing the same pale pink tights, black leotard and leg warmers she always rehearsed in. Her sandy hair pulled away from her heart-shaped face into the same messy bun, but her hazel eyes were darker, skin paler. Was she still only seventeen? She touched the bandage on her forehead, wincing slightly at the memory.

It had been three weeks since the car accident. Her bruises were fading, but not the memories; instead, they haunted her dreams. Last night she woke up screaming and walked down the hall only to remember, when seeing her parents' empty bed, that it wasn't a nightmare at all. She curled into a ball on their comforter, inhaling deep breaths of them, trying to hold on to every morsel of their memory that she could. But they were gone and life would never be the same.

"Sorry, kiddo." Claire's brunette head peeked in the doorway. "But we have to finish packing."

"Okay." Zoe grabbed her bag and glanced back once, for just a second, before she followed her aunt to the car.

Claire was petite, like Zoe. It was strange to see her that way now when, as a child, Zoe had thought her aunt bigger than life. The woman always dripped confidence and adventure whenever she came to visit. She was just in her early thirties and had seen the world as a journalist she followed the breaking news. Claire was always so glamorous and heroic, but she seemed so much smaller now, dwarfed by her grief.

***

Claire had been chasing a story in the Middle East when she got the call that her brother and sister-in-law had died in a car accident. She took the next flight out to sit by Zoe's hospital bed, waiting for her to wake up. It would be another 36 hours before Zoe would open her eyes slowly.

Everything was fuzzy and she blinked a few times before it came into focus. Then she shut her eyes tight again, squeezing them so hard that tears slipped out and down her cheeks as she let out a quiet whimper.

"Hey there, kiddo."

Zoe recognized Claire's voice and opened her eyes once again and saw the heartbreak written on her aunt's face. Red eyes and dark circles revealed the truth. What if I'm wrong? "Mom and Dad?" she croaked, her throat dry and sore.

"I'm so sorry, sweetie." Claire shook her head, her own voice breaking.

The sob rose up from Zoe's stomach and clenched her chest before being choked out of her throat, followed by more tears. Her aunt pulled her into a hug as her body wracked with sobs and she gripped the woman so tightly that her muscles ached even more, but she couldn't let go. She had no one else left in the world. Only Claire. Her fingers clutched Claire's black sweater and her breathing labored until exhaustion took over and she fell back to sleep.

She didn't know how long she had been unconscious. They told her it was just over a day and a half, but it felt like weeks or years. Or was it mere seconds? After crying until she passed out again, her body just felt numb. People had stopped by to check on her, and many brought flowers and offered condolences. They were her friends, but she couldn't really remember their faces or names at the moment. They had joined the blur of doctors and nurses who had been in and out of her room checking this vital and that chart. The conversations were equally muddled in her memory, intermingled with her aunt making funeral arrangements over the phone.

The day Zoe got out of the hospital she fidgeted with the lace of her black dress, eyes focused on the scuff marks across the toes of her ballet flats, until a drop of water hit her temple. Does everyone keep a black umbrella around just for funerals? They weren't enough. Rain snuck under their hasty shelter and plastered her hair to her face, effectively hiding her bruises. A minister said something about better places and peace and comfort; all those things preachers are supposed to say when someone dies. Then two mahogany coffins were lowered into the ground. Zoe was mesmerized by the earth that swallowed them, mud bordered by bright green grass. Claire nudged her to join the queue in tossing a handful of dirt over the wooden boxes before they laid a rose on each headstone and walked away.

Zoe spent the next six days eating neighbors' casseroles, watching already dreary funeral bouquets wither, and packing up her life. Her parents' will had named Claire as guardian, so she'd had her things shipped to the Andrews' home; but they would never make it out of their boxes because Claire had already decided they should move.

"You're kidding, right?" Zoe let out a bitter laugh. "I've only ever lived in this house!"

"I think it's for the best, Zo, to start fresh."

"I don't need a fresh start. I need my home and my friends!" Zoe threw her hands up while pacing the living room floor in her fuzzy socks.

"I know it's hard, but I need you to trust me on this one. I wouldn't make you move right now if I didn't believe it was the right thing." Claire calmly patted the sofa next to her.

Zoe studied the empty spot next to Claire with squinty eyes before walking over and plopping down next to her aunt, her anger melting under another round of hot tears.

"I'm scared." She stared down at her fingers, picking at chipped nail polish.

"Of a new place? Making new friends?"

Zoe let out an imprisoned breath. "That moving means leaving them behind." Her eyes reached Claire's, more tears hanging on the edge. She bit her bottom lip in a failed effort to quell them.

"Aww, Zo. This is just a place. An important one for sure, but just a place." Claire wrapped an arm around her shoulder and pulled her close, letting her head rest against Zoe's. "The memories can be taken anywhere."

***

So just three weeks after the accident, they packed up the only home Zoe Renee Andrews had ever known.

A For Sale sign was staked in the front yard, furniture was covered from dust, and memories were packed in boxes. Claire put the last one in the U-haul trailer just as Zoe retrieved the leather messenger bag resting on the bottom step. The one that had been her father's.

"Zoe, we need to get on the road." Claire's voice echoed through the shell of the house until it found Zoe. She gave her home one last look, the memories like ghosts around her.

"Coming." Zoe shook off further tears, closed the front door, and slid into the passenger's side of the SUV.

"Ready for this?" Claire turned the key in the ignition.

"Probably not." Zoe turned up the radio and slumped into her seat as they pulled out of the drive, out of town and out of Minnesota. She wouldn't even let herself look back for a last glance at her home. Claire was putting on a brave face and she would do the same. She would squash the anger and fear and grief as far down as she could, holding it in like a deep breath, and pray she didn't drown in it.