"Mr. Jurel, what are you doing at my house? No offense but...That's kind of creepy." I mumbled. 

"We need to talk." I sighed at my teacher. "Alright, come on in."

•

I sighed, thankful that Mr. Jurel left. All he wanted to talk about was if I knew who gave me that letter. I wish I did, it would be so much more easy. Because let me tell you, I've been getting these notes since eighth grade.

Eighth. Fucking. Grade. 

He also told me that our school was being closed over the weekend and there was nothing we could do. He said that he was going to go teach somewhere across the country.

The home phone rang loud and clear, making me jump. I swallowed thickly as I got up, going over and answering it. I bit my lip as I held it to my ear.

"Ms. Pilikian, it's Lucille, Lucille LaRusso. If it's possible...I'd like my son Eddie to come home. Come to Reseda, California. The local school is a great school and you've told me that his school was going to close down sooner or later. So, may I please talk to Eddie?"  I swallowed a lump in my throat as I heard her continue. This...This was my mom. My real mother. 

"Daniel really wants to meet Eddie. Ever since I told him about Eddie, although I don't know much about him. But I'm begging you, please." Tears were streaming down my cheeks. It's now or never.

"Y-you're s-sp-speaking to E-Eddie, m-ma-ma'am." I heard a gasp. "Eddie, is that you?" I rolled my eyes, refusing the urge to say something either totally rude or sarcastic. 

"Yeah."