I clutched the box with the cloak to my chest. Connor's BMW flew smoothly over the bumpy roads. The scenery changed from skyscrapers to trees and grass like always. The drive back to my house seemed to just fly by. The long driveway and sporadic trees dotting the land did a fairly decent job keeping my home hidden from street view. The old farmhouse at the end of the winding drive had been in my family for a long time. With there being just mom and myself it was lonely. Before dad picked up and left us the place was lively. There were parties and people all the time. Then, for whatever reason, things changed. Dad left, mom became withdrawn from the world, and I was born. She kept a happy face for me, and encouraged me to have friends over, but her sadness broke through the façade. It was awkward hearing the other moms' gossip about mine. They had wild, sordid, and embarrassing theories about the absent father. I always found it pathetic how catty the older women could be. I also hated the looks of pity they would shoot my way as if I was nothing but some casualty in a horrible divorce. The house sat dark and still. There were no signs of movement or life. It looked normal.

"No offense, Elysse, but your house is creepy."

"I know."

"Oh," he said.

"Let's go in," I said yanking on the door handle.

Mom was sitting in the office with a book. She always sat at the oversized desk. At one point it was my father's; now it was hers. She sits there and reads, or stares at her wedding photo.

Happier times for her.

There were moments when I wondered if she regretted ever having me. If it weren't for me, she would still have a husband.

"Mom, we're going to the attic."

She didn't look up.

"Good evening, Elaine."

Her eye lashes fluttered, and she looked up forlornly at Connor. Her delicate mouth pulled down at the corners, and her forehead wrinkled. She looked so much older than thirty-nine. Her eyes drifted back to the book, and that was the interaction with mom.

"Is your mom okay?"

"That is normal mom," I muttered, clutching the box to my body as we climbed the stairs.

"Why is she like that?" he asked quietly peeking behind him.

"She's always been like that. My gram and pap said it started the day after my dad left and never went away. It's really like not having a mother at all. Sometimes I forget she's even here. She's like a really quiet, crazy roommate."

I pushed open the not-so-secret door and walked in. The space was still musty and dusty, but with the flashlights and shutter opened it wasn't quite as dreary as it was. I sat in front of the old trunk and dug around for Little Red Riding Hood.

"Do you think anything useful is in here?" I asked flipping through the yellowed pages.

"Possibly. It has been a long time since I've seen the real cloak," Connor said taking the book off me.

He flipped through until he came across a picture of a young woman.

"Here we go. Okay, take out the cloak."

I gingerly took the lid off and pulled out the garment. I buried my face in the softness. An odd smell wafted out and pretty much smacked me in the face.

"Conner?"

"What?"

"I don't think the cape was ever enchanted," I said.

"What makes you say that?" he asked.

"Smell this. Shove your face in the fabric and sniff. Do enchantments smell?"

"Um, okay," he tentatively raised the cape to his nose and took a deep whiff.

"Do you smell it?"

"Yeah, what is it?"

"I don't know," I said quietly, "Do you think it has anything to do with me acting crazy at the office?"

"Possibly," he said hovering a beam of flashlight light over the fabric, "There's some kind of powder on it."

"Where?"

"Near the neck line," he began shaking the cape furiously.

So the cape was drugged. Awesome.

"If the cape wasn't enchanted and actually drugged could that mean the Great Evil is losing her power?" I asked.

"I have no idea. Maybe she's just reserving her power."

While Connor messed around with the cape, I looked at the book. The drawing seemed somewhat out of place with all of the color. The girl in the drawing had soft blonde hair and piercing green eyes. The red cape she had on was a deep shade of red, like the one I had. The tie around her neck was a blood red colored cord, and the inside of the cloak was the same color. There were odd specks on the back of it that I thought were dirt at first, until I realized they were in the same swirling patterns as the one I have.

"Hey, we have a match."

"What?" he asked surprised.

"Don't sound so surprised. This was all your idea."

"I didn't really think it would lead to anything it was just a wild shot in the dark," he stressed dropping the cloak and snatching the book.

"Here, I'll put it on, you compare," he stared at me, "Connor, I'm sure with how hard you shook this thing there isn't anything left on it."

I flung it around so it was resting on my shoulders and quickly tied it. The garment felt heavier than before. Maybe the drugs really did affect me more than I thought.

"You're right, Elysse, it's the same cape," he said in amazement.

"I still don't know why you're surprised. With everything else that is going on, a cape matching a book is a shocker?"

"Come on, who would know what this picture looks like? I doubt there are many first edition Grimm books floating around."

"You can't think of a single person who would know?" I arched my eyebrows at him.

"Just one and if it is her, she knows where you work."

"Knowing where I work is better than knowing where I live," I said.

"Do you honestly think she wouldn't be able to find that out? If she doesn't already know."

"Hey, I have an idea, let's freak me out some more," I rolled my eyes.

"These are things you have to think about now."

"Can we please just focus on the task at hand?"

"Yeah, turn around again. It's so uncanny how much they look alike."

"I wonder if the real red riding hood misses her cape," I pondered out loud.

Connor just looked at me.