Through the Dark (Sequel to Taking Chances)

Chapter Forty-Eight: "Fatality"

Brielle
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I was going mad.

With every passing hour, every passing day, we were stuck in a whirlwind of boredom and anticipation that sucked as much as being stuck in here without knowing what the hell was going on out there. Quite a few times I yelled and slammed the door shut, even swore that I hated the world for everything. But if I had to be honest, the only person I truly hated was myself.

Why did I subject to all these games? Why did I let them become such a problem? If it weren't for my constant train of thought about saving everyone and destroying those who tried to ruin us, I'd have never gotten into this position. I was positive that had I gotten the hell out of dodge when it came time for me to leave for the University, no one would've ever suffered but me. People wouldn't have gotten shot or tortured or plagued with the impression that if they didn't give up their best friend, they were going to die. Everyone would be safe.

The idea that leaving everything behind when it came time seemed more real to me than the fact that one day, Charlotte would get a hold of us and let us know that it was all over, and that we didn't have to worry about Judie anymore.

And every time I looked at Claire, at Harry, I would feel guilty, because it was yet another thing I was keeping from them and one thing that I wasn't ever going to tell them until I had entirely made up my mind on how I was going to do it. I would ache at the thought that once all of this was over, when Judie was gone and the worry of anything was only just leaving our situation, I would say my goodbyes and disappear.

But I wouldn't say a word to anyone, and the only person who knew I was even thinking about it wouldn't let me leave without him or without telling them sooner than I wanted.

After a few mornings where I pondered this, I decided I'd had enough. I was tired of thinking and tired of the waiting around that allowed for me to think. I wanted answers, better answers than, "I'll contact you when it's safe." So I went looking. Every drawer, every cabinet, every bedroom that we hadn't explored yet, I searched.

I even rummaged through the closets. Sifting through boxes that were stored away, files that had been tucked into desk drawers, photos that weren't put into a frame for one reason or another.

Niall caught me at one point, asked what I was doing in that familiarly concerned tone he always used anymore. When I gave him the vague answer of, "Looking," he sighed and walked away.

I had no idea where Claire and Harry were, but my least concern was what they were doing. I just wanted to stop thinking about leaving, to stop wondering where I'd go and what I'd do, or if they'd ever really be safe if I just bailed.

The photos were all of Charlotte and what I assumed were friends, a couple of the parents that raised me, one of a baby that looked a little vaguely like me. I found one that intrigued me, because Judie stood close with another woman, one I didn't recognize, with her arms around her shoulders and a bright smile on her face. I couldn't remember the last time I saw Judie wear a smile like that, and for a moment I tried to appreciate it. At one point, that woman wasn't so filled with hate, wasn't so hell bent on destroying her niece. She was happy, spending time with her sisters and enjoying being married to a wonderful man that would love her until the end. She was, no doubt, unaware of her future but she was ready for it, and I could tell by the unfamiliar pride on her face that she wanted to woman at her side to be with her until the end, just like her husband.

It was not difficult to understand that the woman at her side in the picture was Lucile, my birth mother.

For the longest time I would look at photos of Anna and I would compare our features, telling myself I'd taken up with my mother more than my father. It was impossible to think that perhaps she would never actually be my birth mother; the resemblance was just so uncanny.