Cross

20 | A Miracle

"I realized it for the first time in my life: there is nothing but mystery in the world, how it hides behind the fabric of our poor, browbeat days, shining brightly, and we don't even know it."- Sue Monk Kidd

Chapter Twenty

Unfortunately, the following morning, when I awoke, I found out that the nearest bank to my house was closed. It was Easter and almost everything was closed, except for the headquarters. Dejected, that I would have to wait another day before finding out whether the bank account number was real or not, I wallowed in misery as I got dressed for work. Breakfast, too, went by uneventfully, with me eating cornflakes with milk.

It wasn't until I had my bag in hand, and the door key ready to lock my door, when my phone rang. Fishing it out of my bag, I barely glanced at the name before picking up the call.

"Hello?" I asked, pressing my phone in between my ear and shoulder as I locked my front door.

"Angie...it's Eli."

Lifting my head, and holding my phone with my hand, I said, "Oh—hey...what's up?"

"I have good news and bad news," he said. "Which one do you want to hear first?"

"Let's go for the good news first..." I said, after thinking about it for a few seconds.

He coughed. "Ah, now that I think about it...I'm not sure it's good news, either."

I sighed. "I didn't have high expectations, anyways...what is it?"

"Well," he said, elongating the word. "I did as you asked and used my contacts to find out who the P.O box belonged to and I came across some interesting information."

"And, what is that?"

"Apparently, Alan Smith is a real person...and the P.O box belongs to him," he said.

I stopped mid-way on the staircase leading to the front door of the house. "No way..."

"Yup—it's true. The P.O box number Blaze gave to you does not belong to him, and get this! It was closed a couple months back by Alan. So, it's no longer a functioning P.O box."

I ran my hands through my hair, processing the information. For some reason, though, I could not digest it. There was something about the whole scenario that did not sit right with me. "That can't be right."

He sighed. "That's all I could find, Angie. If you don't believe me—"

"I believe you, Eli...I just don't understand why Blaze would give me a P.O box number first that doesn't even belong to him, and then send me a bank account number. It doesn't make sense."

"He sent you a bank account number?" He asked, suddenly more serene.

"Yeah...why would he send me to places to send the cash too...unless," I said, as a new thought entered my brain. "Unless...the P.O box was a clue!"

He was quiet in lieu of my realization, but eventually he said, "You might be right...but we won't know for sure until someone goes and investigates in Texas."

I was out on the street now, walking toward the train, but his words made me stop in the middle of the street. "Texas?"

"Yeah...didn't you know?"

"I have no idea what you're talking about, Eli."

He said, "Alan lives in Texas—the P.O box is located there as well."

"Are you kidding me?"

He laughed. "I wish, Angie. But, it's the truth. He's in Texas."

"I can't go all the way to Texas to figure this out! It's way too far..."