Hi guys!

Sorry for the wait, i just started my second quarter of college and am taking for classes this time/: which means less time to myself. Thank you for your patience though!

I posted the second book to this so you can add it to your library already! let me know what you think of the name and cover, ( im trying to fix the cover though)

hope you like the chapter, dont forget to vote!

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KAYDENCE

After an hour of trying to convince Harry this morning that I was okay to go by myself, I was finally able to get on the road and make my way to Pasadena to meet this Dave guy. My nerves are frantic and my hands clutch the steering wheel a lot tighter then needed the closer I get to my old childhood home. I’m nervous about what Dave will say happened to my mom, he hadn’t elaborated much on how she had died over the phone and I barely slept last night because my thoughts were all jumbled,  and I kept wondering how this could have happened.

Forty five minutes later I am turning on a very familiar street, and my lungs tighten around my chest as I roll up against the curb across from my house as I put my foot on the brake to put the car in park. I look out the window that’s separating me from this almost unfamiliar house, taking in the way the white paint on the borders surrounding the windows is now almost chipped completely, or how the railing that was on the sides of the stairs leading up to the porch is now gone, or the fact that the grass is too long and it’s obvious it hasn’t been cut in a long time.

Opening the car door, I hop down from the drivers seat and walk across the gravel and to the front of the house, hesitantly stopping at the end of the pathway that leads up to the stairs. I slowly take in the other differences of the house that weren’t that noticeable from the car, becoming so distracted that I don’t hear the sound of footsteps behind me and when I feel a hand on my shoulder I jump so far up.

I whip around quickly, to see a middle aged man with light brown hair and sharp angled cheekbones. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you.” He says, holding his hands out in front of him. “I’m Dave. You must be Kaydence, correct?”

I sigh in relief and nod my head. “Yes.”

He smiles warmly at me, revealing his straight teeth. He’s actually really attractive for an older man. “It’s nice meeting you.” He holds out his palm for me to shake, and I reluctantly place my hand in his before dropping it back to my side.

“Would you like to go inside and discuss everything?”

I look to the house and inwardly cringe at the idea of walking inside. I’m not ready yet. “Um, no.” I look to the side of the house, hoping to see the wooden table still sitting there from years ago. Luckily it is. “We can just sit there.” I point to the table and Dave nods, moving to walk to the edge of the table and placing his briefcase on top of it. He sits down on the wooden bench of the table and I take a seat across from him, my eyes hovering over the small engravings made on the top of it that me and Danny had done when we were kids.

Dave rests his hands on top of the table, crossing his hands. “My condolences to you about your mother.”

My heart clenches in my chest, and I swallow the lump that begins to grow at the mention of my mom. “What happened to her? You weren’t very clear on the phone.” I ask softly.

Dave sighs and lifts one of his hands to rub the top of his short hair. “I had been in touch with your mother since last July, she knew she was sick-“

“She was sick?” I interrupt.

“Yes. She had been sick for a little over a year now. She had breast cancer, she fought it for awhile, went into chemotherapy but it hadn’t worked. She knew she was going to die.”

I blink at the man sitting in front of me, fighting to keep my breath even. She had been sick for over a year? That means she had gotten sick while I was still living here. How come she hadn’t told me? All these months she hadn’t called to tell me.  “So that’s how she died? She just…passed away?”

“Yes, well that’s what we think.” Dave says hesitantly.

“What you think? What do you mean?”

“Your mom was sick and she had been running out of time, but she passed much sooner then we were expecting.”

“How much longer was she suppose to have?” I ask.

“About a month, maybe two.”

“But you said you think that’s how she passed. But you’re not sure? What do you think happened to her then?”

Dave shakes his head. “I’m not sure, there is a whole investigation going on right now and I don’t know all the details.”

I nod in understanding and stare down at the carving on the table of a flower I had drawn when I was fourteen while watching my mom do the gardening near the stairs. I automatically turn my head to look there, expecting to see them but instead dead grass sits in its place. “When was the funeral?”

“Last week. I apologize for not contacting you until yesterday, but your mom hadn’t left your number anywhere. It took me awhile to find your information.”

I wave him off. My mom wouldn’t of wanted me there anyway. “It’s alright.”

Dave smiles sympathetically at me then reaches for his briefcase, snapping the gold locks on it and opening the black leather case. He sticks his hand inside and pulls out a few folders, opening them up and reading them over.

“What is that?” I ask curiously, leaning forward to get a look at the blue paper.

“Your mom’s will.”

I blink and lean back in the bench, putting my hands under my legs and sitting on them. The bench cuts into my palms but I don’t care, I welcome the sting. “She had a will?”

“Yes, she made it when she realized she wouldn’t be making it.” I bite the inside of my cheek to keep my cries hidden inside of me as Dave flips the page over. “It says here she gave you the house.”

I release my cheek from my teeth and my jaw falls open. “What?”

“She gave you the house.” He repeats.

“Why?” I ask, stunned.

“You are her child, I would assume that’s why.” He looks back down at the page but I’m still in shock. The house? Why would she give it to me? She hates me. Hated me. “Everything in it as well belongs to you.”

“I don’t want the house.” I find myself saying. It’s true, I don’t. the house holds too many horrid memories, I could never keep it for myself. It never felt much like home to me after what happened with my dad.

“You can decide what to do with it later, but you should think it over. Most people don’t want the house at first but they end up keeping it.” Not me.

“Okay. So are we done here?” I ask. I need to get out of here.

“No,” He looks back down at the paper. “She also left you five hundred thousand dollars.”

The breath inside my throat hitches and I cough out loud. “Excuse me?”

“She left-,”

“No I heard you I just-,” I pause and take a deep breath. “That’s just a lot of money for someone my age.”

“Well she wanted to make sure you were taken care of, that’s all any parent wants for their child.”

Bile rises at the back of my throat as Dave takes a pen out from his briefcase, sliding the paper over to me and handing me the pen. He points to a black line on it. “I need you to sign here.”

I take the pen from his hands and sign the paper, then hand him back the pen as he puts the papers back in his briefcase. He picks up a small item before closing the case and locking it again, then opens his palm to reveal the item in his hand. “Here,” He holds it out to me and I lean forward to see it’s a key. “It’s to the house.”

“Oh.” I hesitate before taking it from him and turn the small key around in my fingers, examining the different angles of it. It’s not the same key I had when I lived here, she must have had the locks changed after I moved out. I’m assuming to make sure I stayed out…

Dave stands up and looks down at me, placing his hand on my shoulder and I try to keep myself from pulling away. “I am very sorry about your mother. She was a wonderful woman.” I nod my head in acceptance and he turns to walk away then stops mid step. “If you need to get a hold of me, feel free to call me. Also, if you go in the house, her room is off limits.”

“Why?”

“It’s where the investigation is.” He says before turning to walk to his car. I watch him climb into it, and he waves to me as he drives away. I stay seated on the wooden bench for I don’t know how long, debating on whether or not I want to walk in the house. My knee bounces uncontrollably as I stare at the front door, and before I know it I’m up and making my way across the lawn and towards the stairs. When I reach the front door I put the key in the lock then turn it, taking a deep breath before pushing the brown door open. It squeaks the way doors do in scary movies and lightly hits the side of the wall and I hesitantly take a step inside, leaning around to see inside as if someone is going to be standing in one of the rooms.

The house is quiet as the click of the door is the only sound as I shut it behind me, looking into the living room where I use to watch Saturday morning cartoons with Danny but also the same room my dad had attacked me in, knocking me over and leaving me with the scars on my back. I turn my eyes away from the room, and move down the hallway that leads to the kitchen. When I walk inside the square wooden table is no longer there, and instead a round small one is in it’s place. I move to the fridge and peer at the pictures  hanging there, all of them being of Danny. I smile at the one of him laughing and leaning into someone, but the way the picture is bent back makes it look like my mom had tried to hide the other person. I pull the picture out from the magnet and unfold it, feeling my stomach drop at the realization that the person my mom had tried to hide had been me. I remember now as I look at the picture, it had been from two summers ago and me and Danny were sitting on the steps in front of his house, making jokes about my mom’s gardening and he had thrown his arm around my neck as we both laughed and my mom had taken the opportunity at snapping the picture of us.

I fold the picture in half and slide it into my back pocket, then pull off all the other pictures of Danny hanging on the fridge and put them in my pocket as well. I move from the kitchen to back down the hall, looking up towards the stairs that leads to our rooms. My hands build with sweat as I take the stairs and I walk towards my mother’s room, only to understand what Dave had meant. Her room is blocked off with caution tape, indicating I was not allowed to pass and I slowly move away from the room and towards Danny’s. I open his bedroom door and take in the scent. It still smells like him, and everything inside of it is still untouched as if he had been here just yesterday. I cross the bedroom, stepping over the dirty clothes lying on the floor and move towards his dresser where he has his favorite chain necklace lying. I pick it up and examine the pendant that has a ‘D’ on it, then pull it over my head and let it rest around my neck. My mom had yelled at me after Danny had died, saying she never wanted me to touch it when I had asked her if I could keep it. I feel guilty as it hangs around my neck, but it was something of his I had always wanted. It made me feel connected to him still.

As much as I wanted something of my mom’s, everything of hers was in her room and right now I would not be able to get it. I take one last look around Danny’s room and walk out, closing the door behind me. I stare down the hallway towards my room and debate whether or not I want to go inside. The room holds to many horrible memories that I am now barely beginning to heal from. I force myself to go to my room when I remember there are stuff in there I still want, and push the white door open. My red sheets are still in place where I had left them, and my dirty clothes are still in the hamper. It’s obvious my mom hadn’t come in my room at all after I had left, and I try not to let the thought bother me. I walk across the room to my dresser and open my drawers. I pull out some of my favorite shirts and hold them in my arms as I turn to asses the rest of the room. Memories of my dad stumbling in through the door begin to cloud my mind and I carefully stare at my bed. The edge of my bed is sunk in, as if someone had been sitting on it recently, and I narrow my eyes as I stare at it longer. I look around the rest of my room, studying it closely and for the first time notice how my other drawers, the one’s I had left untouched before I left are slightly open with my clothes messily sticking out. I look on top of my dresser and see my jewelry box knocked to the side, pieces of jewelry scattered everywhere. Had someone broken in? Or was it my mom who did this? I somehow doubt it had been my mom, but I also doubt it was a burglar. This looks like someone had been looking for something specific.

A creak in the hallway pulls me out of my thoughts and the blood in my veins still. I can hear my heart pounding through my ears as I listen closely for any movement, and when I don’t hear anything I slowly but quietly move to my doorway. I peak my head out and look down both ways of the hall only to see nothing. I sigh in relief as I turn around and I swear for a moment I see my father’s dark eyes watching me as he sits at the edge of my bed, the place the indent had been. I blink several times only to see no one there and my breathing comes in quick through my lips as I hear another creak in the hallway. I’m paranoid, and it’s all in my head. Another creak. Shit, I need to get out now. I quickly turn around and run out of my bedroom and down the stairs, throwing the front door open and slamming it shut behind me as I race across the street and fumble for my keys before I unlock the car and jump inside, locking the doors behind me. My breathing is out of my control as I begin to hyperventilate and I desperately clutch at my chest to try and catch my breath as tears begin to pour out of my eyes. I’m paranoid, I was paranoid and none of it was real. My father was not in my room and there was no one in the hallway and no one broke into your room. You’re paranoid. I repeatedly tell myself this as I try to calm down and I think of ways to calm myself. Writing. I need to write.

I am about to scream when I remember I had put my journal in here, in the console of my car and I frantically open it, reaching inside to pull it out but am left with my hand coming up empty. I look inside again, moving papers aside but it’s still not there. I know I put it here. I remember hiding it here when Harry had accidently read it.

“What the fuck.” I begin to panic and before I know it I am tearing up my car looking for it, pushing the passenger’s seat back and looking on the floors. Nothing. My breath quickens in a frenzy when I realize that it’s not here, my notebook, the book that holds all my thoughts and all my deepest darkest secrets,  is nowhere to be found.