“Okay,” I nod, feeling some of the hope and optimism I had draining away.
“What is it?” Greg asks. “What is it about him? I know it’s more than just him mentioning Leviathan.”
Dean and I exchange glances. Greg already said he didn’t know Martin and wasn’t familiar with anyone else in the organization. The thought of putting even more stress and trauma onto him by telling him about Catch Me makes me hesitant, but at the same time, he might know more than he realizes. Even the smallest detail could be valuable now.
“Jonah isn’t the only person putting me in danger,” I tell him.
“What do you mean?”
Tucking away the papers I already took out; I bring out everything I have about Catch Me and start to unravel it all. He listens in silence, evaluating every picture and occasionally nodding as he tries to take it all in. I’ve gotten to the note supposedly from Marren Purcell that brought me to the train when my phone rings. Seeing it’s Sam, I look at Dean.
“I’ve got it,” he says.
I realize he does. I’ve gotten to the strange point in the story where we thought our lives overlapped, not realizing we were linked from long before. Leaving Dean to tell Greg more, I take my phone out and head for the lounge.
“Hey,” I say, answering the phone. “I miss you. I figured I should get that over with at the beginning of the conversation.”
“I appreciate it,” Sam says. “I miss you, too. But I have a feeling I’ll be seeing you soon.”
“What do you mean?” I ask. “Are you already coming back?”
“No, but I think you might want to come home.”
“Sam, I can’t. I’m right in the middle of all of this. Greg is giving us more details and what he doesn’t know we’re trying to piece together. I can’t leave it alone now,” I tell him as I reach for the bag of coffee to start a new pot.
“No, you can’t. Which is why you need to be here to see these reports,” he says.
“Reports? I thought there was only one about the wreck.”
“There was. But there are others about what led up to it. You really need to see them, Emma. It has to do with your parents. And with you.”
Fresh coffee sizzles and spits on the hot plate as I snatch the partially filled pot away and tip it into a cup. Snapping a lid on it, I rush back toward Greg’s room.
“I’m on my way.”
Chapter Twenty-Six Mariya
Twenty-two years ago…
Mariya lifted her mouth from the edge of her teacup to call out to her young daughter as she ran through the house toward the front door.
“Emma, darling, put on a sweater before you go out. It’s chilly.”
“No, it’s not,” Emma said. “It’s sunny out there.”
The young mother laughed.
“We aren’t in Florida, my love. Here Autumn is when the world starts to go to sleep for the year. Remember when we came for Thanksgiving? That is only two and a half months away,” she said.
Curious and determined, Emma stared back at her, stuck between believing her mother and already finding her own way in the world. That was one of the many things Mariya loved about her. She was strong and believed first in what she knew within herself, above what she was told. Mariya hoped she would hang on to that as she got older. It’s more difficult as an adult to find the balance. To believe wholly in yourself and also be willing to trust.
“Two and a half months is a long time, Mama,” Emma said.
“You’re right. Find out for yourself. Step outside, and you’ll see,” Mariya shrugged.
Holding her ball beneath her arm, Emma stepped out onto the front porch. She stood there for a few moments before backing into the house and closing it. Setting the ball down, she rushed to her room and came back seconds later, shrugging into her favorite bright yellow sweater. Mariya brought her mouth back to her teacup to muffle her laughter.
“Can I go?” Emma asked. “Dad is out there.”
“Can he see you?” she asked.
“Yes,” Emma nodded. “He’s just in the side yard fixing the fence. He’ll be able to see me.”
“Alright, then. But don’t go anywhere he can’t see you.”
“I won’t.”
Mariya waited a few seconds before getting up from the dining room table and crossing the living room to the large front window. She didn’t want her daughter to know she was watching her. As hard as it was for her, she was trying to encourage independence in Emma. She was only seven years old. There wasn’t much she could do completely on her own, but Ian and Mariya wanted her to feel confident and able to make decisions for herself. They loved her and trusted her, but they were so afraid for her. If anyone understood the risks and dangers lurking in the world, it was the two of them. They had seen the worst in people. They witnessed the cruelty and viciousness of life and knew just how quickly a safe, normal life could fall into treacherous waters.
Their instinct was to protect her. They wanted to shield her from everything. But they knew that would only limit her. It was far more important to help her take her place in the world. To slowly prepare her for what she might one day experience.
Mariya knew this and tried to follow it every day. But it didn’t stop her from always wanting to guard her daughter. She stood there by the window, not just keeping an eye on Emma. It was really about savoring every moment she had with her. She was growing up so fast. It seemed like Emma should still be just a baby, cradled in her arms. The days had gone by so fast.
