Disclaimer: I do not own any rights to the TV series, Criminal Minds.
Who We Are
Part 1
By N. J. Borba
Emily entered the conference room Friday morning with coffee in hand and a horrible headache. She hadn't slept well the night before, or the last few weeks for that matter. She'd been waking in the middle of the night; cold sweats, racing heart and a feeling of complete helplessness. There was never any dream to be remembered when she woke, and it was typical for her to be awake for a good few hours before falling asleep again, if she could even get back to sleep. So far Emily thought she'd done a pretty good job of hiding it, but Derek Morgan blew that small hope out of the water as she slid into the seat beside him.
"You okay?" he asked, noticing the dark circles beneath her eyes.
In all fairness, it should have been her asking him that question. The last few months since his ordeal with Spicer's family had been rough, to say the least. Yet here he was worried about her. It certainly wasn't her first flirtation with guilt. She glanced around the circular table at the others who'd already gathered. JJ sat closest to the video screen, Reid to Morgan's right and Rossi across from her. Thankfully Hotch hadn't arrived yet, because Emily wasn't big on sharing in group settings. As it was, she settled on a simple, "I'm fine," then sipped from her steaming mug of coffee.
"It's just..." Derek hesitated only a second before speaking his mind. "You look really tired."
"Thanks," she replied, though the tone of her word was anything but grateful. "You really know how to make a girl feel good first thing in the morning." Lack of sleep seemed to be directly portioned with her tongue's tendency to lash out.
Derek didn't bite the hook she'd just baited. He had no intention of apologizing, because he'd been genuinely concerned about her for the last couple of weeks, watching her drag through the day; her movements sluggish, as well as her mind. She was always a pillar of strength within the team, and she'd been his greatest source of support lately; the shoulder he kept leaning on. Without her, Derek wasn't quite sure he would have made it through the last couple of months. He knew better than to push her, though. "I was just making an observation," he tried to ease out of the conversation.
"Yeah, well..." she sighed, leaning forward in her chair to avoid eye contact with him. "I really hate profilers some days."
"Saying that implies that you hate yourself some days," Reid noted.
Emily shot the young man a withering look. "Seriously, Reid. Don't start," she snapped at him.
Spencer gulped. "Sorry," he mumbled.
Hotch entered the room, ending all side conversation. JJ rose to begin their meeting and a few minutes later the team was absorbed in victim photos that flashed across the screen. The first set showed two thirty-something blonde women from St. Louis, both who'd been stabbed in the abdomen. The second group of pictures depicted an equal number of male and female victims in a recent rash of drowning cases along the Mississippi River. A last set revealed two five-year-old girls from the small city of Pullman, Washington. The team listened and offered feedback as JJ went over the potential cases.
"So, Whitman County police have two dead girls; both in Kindergarten and both bodies found along the Snake River," Morgan started in after JJ's summary; the case striking a deeper cord with him after his dealings with Ellie Spicer. "And they haven't connected any of that?"
"Oh, they have," JJ replied. "But both cases have ties to Washington State University, and the college wants to keep things as quiet as possible," she explained. "Debra Campbell, the mother of the second victim, Nell Campbell, brought this case to my attention. Her husband is an assistant professor of veterinary medicine at the school. She's been combing news videos and newspapers for case details because she doesn't think the police are doing everything possible to find this killer."
Hotch frowned, fearing he wasn't going to like where JJ was headed. "Has she addressed her concern with the police department?" he asked.
JJ nodded. "Yes, and they keep giving her the run around… so she says." The media liaison took a quick breath. "Mrs. Campbell is obviously upset, her daughter died two weeks ago and she's seeking answers as to why. Her emotions are probably skewing her ability to be reasonable. And the police really can't be responsible for hand holding, but…"
"You said you'd help anyway," Hotch deduced.
She looked sufficiently chastised by the accusatory tone in his voice, but JJ charged forward. "I explained to Mrs. Campbell that there's nothing we can do unless the authorities invite us in. But I also told her I'd present the case to my team. That way, if they do call us in at some point, we'll at least be aware of the situation."
Hotch closed the file in front of him. "And we're aware of it now." The Unit Chief was not unaffected by the woman's plight, and cases with kids always touched the team more than others, but there was really nothing he could do if local authorities didn't ask for their help. It was always a hardship trying to determine top priority, and it was sometimes made worse; knowing they could help but not being allowed to. "Have we got anything else to go over?"
"Actually, no," JJ answered. "Unless we get called in on the cases I just went over, or something else crosses my desk today, our work load will be significantly lighter than usual next week."
"Doesn't sound like such a bad thing," Prentiss noted, trying hard not to think about the dead girl's mother.
"It is if you want a paycheck," Morgan quipped, hoping to dispel some of their earlier tensions. He instantly regretted the words, though, realizing his barb sounded wholly insensitive. His comedic timing never had been the greatest, not to mention that he knew she wasn't interested in money when it came to their job. Neither was he for that matter, although it helped in the matter of basic living. He flashed apologetic eyes her way and she acknowledged with a reflection of the gesture. Morgan was grateful, though he still thought she looked more tired than usual.
Before the team could think to leave, a knock sounded at the closed door. A second later Agent Anderson opened the partition a crack, poked his head into the room and looked to Hotch. "I'm sorry to interrupt, sir," he said. "But there's a woman down at the main entry who claims she needs to speak to someone in the BAU as soon as possible. Actually, she mentioned Agent Jareau by name."
"A woman?" Hotch gazed at the agent with questioning eyes, clearly seeking more of an explanation.
Anderson shrugged. "I went down to speak with her, but all she would say is that her name is Anna Wallace and she's trying to figure out who she is. She has a young girl with her, I'm assuming her daughter, but neither of them have proper ID," he concluded.
JJ caught the quizzical look Hotch shot her. "That name doesn't ring a bell," she let him know. "But, we don't have anything pressing. We could at least talk to her," she suggested, intrigued by the fact that the woman seemed to know her name.
Hotch glanced around the table and received approving nods from his other team members. "Have them sent up, Anderson," he finally agreed.
Barely five minutes later Anderson held the conference room door open for the woman and child. The woman was tall and slender with dark brown hair that rested just above her shoulders. She had hazel eyes and porcelain skin. If it weren't for her attire; a cream colored blouse and dark green pleated skirt that looked like something out of an episode of Little House on the Prairie, she could have easily passed for a super model. The young girl at her side wore similar out-dated clothing, light colored blouse and dark skirt. She was also tall and lanky. Her emerald-green eyes complimented a head of brown hair that was longer than her mothers and braided down her back. She looked to be about eight or nine years old and was clutching a ragdoll.
Both of them seemed rather shy as they stood just inside the door, clearly trying to determine what they should do. Anna placed her hands protectively against the child's shoulders as the girl stood in front of her. Anderson departed, closing the door behind him. Morgan got to his feet and was the first to greet them, right hand outstretched. "Derek Morgan," he smiled.
"Anna Wallace," the woman replied, shaking his hand warmly, yet warily. Her hands rested on the girl's shoulders again after that quick exchange. "This is my daughter, Michelle." The child waved demurely but remained silent as Derek directed them to the chair he'd just vacated. Emily got up and offered her seat to the girl while Anna took Derek's. After making introductions all around the table, Prentiss and Morgan sat on the sofa that resided against the back wall of the room.
"Agent Anderson briefly mentioned that you're trying to figure out who you are?" Rossi was the first to open up a dialogue with the attractive woman.
She nodded. "Maybe this will sound strange to you," Anna shrugged. "I'm forty-three years old and I have lived most of my life as Anna Wallace, but I'm certain that isn't the name I was given at birth. However, I can't recall any other name I might have had. Nor do I remember my real parents. What I do remember is being very young and there was a house and a car; I remember seeing that house from the back seat of the car and knowing that I wasn't supposed to be leaving."
"You think you were kidnapped?" Hotch asked.
"Yes," Anna replied.
"Why did you come to the BAU?" Reid was curious as to how that leap had been made.
The woman looked a little apprehensive. "It is a bit of a long story, and not one that makes a lot of sense in some parts. But I assure you that it is an honest story."
Emily watched the woman, noticing how she held her hands folded in her lap and how her eyes rarely ever left her daughter. Her words were nearly exact, the way you'd expect from an English text book. There was a serious lack of contractions used as she spoke, suggesting that she didn't socialize much. She'd obviously lived a sheltered life and appeared subservient in many ways. There was uncertainty in her voice, and yet, she also seemed determined.
"We'd like to hear your story," Prentiss offered. "You can take all the time you need."
Anna looked Emily in the eye and smiled for the first time since she'd entered the room. She seemed to physically relax after that. Her gaze returned to her daughter as she began to explain the story. "My parents, the people who I think took me from my real family, lived on a parcel of farmland south-west of Wichita, Kansas. Eric and I were home schooled by our… by the woman who raised us."
"Eric?" JJ questioned the male name.
"Eric Wallace was…" Anna paused a moment and sighed. "He was taken by them too, at some point before I came to live with them. We were raised as brother and sister, but we… well, we always knew we were not related in such a way and we grew to love each other as more than that. When our parents died many years after our abductions, Eric and I were married. He was my husband and Michelle's father."
"You were legally married?" Dave queried.
She shook her head slightly. "It was not a legal union. Neither of us had birth certificates. Our home schooling wasn't even accredited due to the lack of documentation on our existence. When the Wallace's passed away we inherited the farm. That was not legal either. No one paid much attention to us, though, thinking we were just backward country folk."
Anna looked around the room and settled on Emily for a moment, seeming to find strength in her kind eyes. "We went into town very rarely and only to visit the local library or to pick up a few items that we couldn't provide for ourselves on the farm. But mostly we were self sufficient on the land," she explained. "We even made a little money selling the extra produce we cultivated. We were not rich by any means, but we were relatively happy," she surmised.
Emily listened as Anna spoke with pride, daring them to speak ill against her way of life. "Where is Eric now?" Prentiss asked.
Taking one of Michelle's hands in her own, Anna patted it lightly. "He passed away, almost a year ago," the woman answered.
"I'm very sorry for your loss," Morgan spoke, looking from Anna to the girl. He knew what it was like to lose a father at a young age, or at any age. And he couldn't help retreating to their case in Los Angeles several weeks ago, and the girl Ellie Spicer; the case that was still having major repercussions on his life. "Can I get either of you something to drink, coffee or water?" he offered.
"No, thank you," Anna replied as Michelle remained quiet. "You asked how I came to the BAU and I'd like to tell you without taking too much of your time." She resumed her story. "Eric and I were in our early thirties when the Wallace's passed away. At that point Eric and I both wished to discover more about our lives before we were taken. Even though we vowed to love each other no matter what happened, we needed to know the truth."
Hotch nodded. "That's understandable," he offered.
"We searched for years without success." Anna looked over at her daughter with pride. "Michelle was a surprise to us, a very wonderful one. After she was born we stopped looking for a time, realizing we had a new family that we'd forged together."
Reid wore a lopsided smile as he glanced around the room. "Families form in the most unexpected ways sometimes," he let her know.
Anna smiled, too, but her eyes dimmed a moment later. "Eric was sick for many years. We paid for what little medication and treatment we could, but it was never enough. The tumor was inoperable and it eventually took him. In his last days he begged me to keep looking, to find my family so that Michelle and I wouldn't be alone. I promised him I would, though I didn't have a clue how."
"But you made it here," Emily noted. "You obviously figured out something." She couldn't help feeling bad listening to the woman's story. But in Anna's eyes she could still see pride and hope. It made her want to fight for the woman. "What did you find?" Prentiss asked.
"After Eric passed, I tried to make money. I could not farm all the land myself and I wanted a better life for Michelle, more opportunities for her, maybe even the possibility of attending fine schools and college. I decided I would sell the farm and move to a larger city where I could work and send Michelle to one of those good schools. When I searched for the property deed, I found something else; a journal that Eric had been keeping."
Derek made a quick guess. "He'd already found something about your past?"
"More like a key that might open another door," she replied. "He had been afraid to tell me."
"But he did want you to continue searching," Emily recalled what Anna had said a few minutes ago. "I'm sure he only ever had your best interest at heart." She wasn't sure, though, why it seemed important to reassure the woman of that. Emily didn't even know Eric; or Anna for that matter. Yet she found herself completely engrossed in the story and the mystery surrounding their kidnappings.
Anna smiled sadly. "I suppose he did," she agreed.
"Do you have the journal with you?" Hotch asked.
She nodded and retrieved a leather suitcase that had been left just outside the conference room. It was old and worn with rusty metal latches that barely looked like they were up to the job of keeping the case properly closed. Anna opened the suitcase, looking a little embarrassed. "This is all we have left, other than each other," she explained while extracting the journal.
"What do you mean?" JJ questioned. "Didn't you sell the farm?"
Anna sighed heavily as she closed the suitcase, placed it on the floor and then sat down with the journal in her lap. "I tried to sell, but the state discovered that I had no legal rights to the land or the old house. They seized everything. What little money I had stashed away, I used to buy bus tickets to Virginia. Michelle and I walked for three hours this morning to get to Quantico, because our bus would not stop out here."
None of them quite knew what to say to that. They remained quiet as Anna handed her dead husband's journal to the person seated beside her. "This section here," Anna pointed to the page she'd turned to. Reid read the words aloud.
"I talked to the local police today and they actually laughed at me. I guess I can't blame them. You tell someone you think you might have been kidnapped forty years ago, well, that can be hard to take seriously. I also called a few more private detectives, but they want a lot of money. I feel guilty, because it's my fault our budget is so tight. I wish this illness would just take me now. But I keep fighting for them; for Anna and Michelle. I can't bear the thought of them being alone. So, I did more research on the internet at the library this afternoon. They only allow thirty minute sessions and a limit of three of those per day. But it's worth the effort.
"Today I found something interesting, a group I'd never heard of before. The BAU: Behavioral Analysis Unit, which is a division of the F.B.I. I don't know why I think they can help, or even that they would help. From what I read they mostly track serial killers. Sometimes they work kidnappings, though they're usually recent ones. Forty years is a long time for a trail to run cold. But there was a news archive and I watched a press conference with a young blonde woman. The name at the bottom of the screen was Jennifer Jareau. She seemed, I don't know, honest and kind; the type of person who might help us.
"I know it's a long shot, but I also fear I don't have long to live. I want Anna and Michelle to have something after I'm gone, a family who will take them in. On the other hand, I'm very worried that maybe her family won't want to know who she is now. Sometimes I wonder if they were worse than the Wallace's who raised us. Maybe the Wallace's thought they were saving us from more pain, though that's hard to imagine after enduring the things they did to us. My head is at war with these thoughts as I prepare for bed. I doubt sleep will come easily tonight."
Reid looked up when he was finished reading. "That's how you knew JJ's name."
"Yes, she was the key I spoke of. I had to at least try it in the lock," Anna replied. She stood up then and took Michelle by one hand, suitcase in the other. "That is all I can tell you. I imagine it is not nearly enough to figure out who I am, but I appreciate that you have taken the time to listen. You may keep the journal if you think it might help. I have my memories of Eric, I don't need his words. We should be going now."
Morgan and Emily both jumped to their feet, almost in unison. "You can't just leave," Derek said.
"Where will you go?" Emily added.
Anna turned to face them. "I suppose we will find a shelter. Then I will have to find a job and get Michelle settled at a school. I am a hard worker, I will find something." She seemed positive about the whole situation.
Rossi cringed a little, recalling some details about Anna's life. "You don't have any identification, no birth certificate. No high school diploma or GED certificate. And I imagine you don't have a social security number either. I'm afraid you won't be able to get a job very easily without those things."
Emily watched as the woman's face fell a little, though she remained strong. Clearly she didn't want her daughter to understand the direness of their situation. "Anna, will you and Michelle wait in the bullpen for a few minutes?" she proposed, thoughts already churning in her head. "The team and I need to discuss a few things, but I think we can help you." Prentiss smiled reassuringly and opened the door. She pointed down to her desk. "You can wait there, okay?"
Anna looked a little uncertain, but nodded and guided her daughter down to the desk. Emily watched them go then closed the door and turned to the group. "How do you think you can help?" Morgan asked her.
"First of all, she comes in here claiming she doesn't know who she is," Emily started as she walked around the table and scooped up Eric's journal. Suddenly, with a purpose under her belt, she felt wide awake. "If she stays at a shelter they could start asking questions and maybe even call in Social Services. And what do you think they're going to do in this situation?"
"Psychiatric evaluation," Reid answered with utmost certainty.
"Which means they could take her daughter away," JJ concluded.
Emily nodded. "I believed her story, and taking her daughter away isn't going to do either of them any good," she concluded.
"I agree," Reid chimed in. He knew that he'd been one of the only things to keep his mother hanging on during the darkest days of her turmoil. "She appears to be of sound mind, intelligent even, considering that she's probably been extremely isolated for the last forty years."
Hotch listened to the team and agreed that it wouldn't serve for the woman and her daughter to be separated. He looked to Emily, who had brought this all to their attention in the first place. "So, what are you suggesting, Prentiss?"
"They can stay with me for a while," she replied without hesitation. "At least until we can figure out some way for them to stay together and get Anna a job. I'll take full responsibility for them," Prentiss insisted.
Rossi frowned at her suggestion. "You don't know anything about this woman. Her story and mind may be sound, but other than that," he shrugged, not feeling overly confident about the situation. "Not to mention, forty years is a long time. We may never find out who she is," he pointed out, electing himself to be the voice of reason. "And it really isn't our job either."
"I can make just about anything a BAU case," JJ jumped in, having proclaimed that very fact a time or two before.
Emily was thankful of JJ's supportive words. "We could at least help them carve out some kind of life, even if it's only to legally establish them firmly under the names of Anna and Michelle Wallace," she concluded.
The Unit Chief remembered another time when Emily had volunteered to take someone in. Then it had been a teenaged girl who'd just lost her parents and brother in a home invasion. He sometimes feared that Emily's heart was bigger than it should be for performing the work they did. But she'd proven herself on the job many times over the years. And he really had no grounds for telling her what she could and couldn't do as far as taking in house guests.
"The decision to take them in is fully yours," Hotch conceded. "As for this being a BAU case," he turned his attention to JJ. "No one is in dire need of our help here and there's really nobody to punish, considering the Wallace's are already dead. Therefore, I suggest we keep this matter unofficial." Hotch glanced around the table. "Whoever wants to work on this can do so on their time. That's the best I can do."
Prentiss gave him a quick, curt nod. "Understood."
The team dispersed after that, but Derek caught Emily's arm before she could exit the conference room. "Do you really think this is smart?" he asked her, having kept quiet the whole time she was lobbying to take in the mother and child.
She was a little bit surprised by his question. "You jumped up too. I could tell you didn't want to just let them walk out of here," Emily pointed out.
"No, I didn't," he slowly breathed out the words. "I was concerned about them going to a shelter," Morgan admitted. "But inviting strangers into your home is above and beyond the call of duty here, Prentiss. It's not like taking in a lost puppy."
A heavy sigh escaped her lips as she carefully considered his words. He was right, of course. And she'd seen the clearly defined hesitation on everyone else's faces. She honestly couldn't explain her reasoning, though, not to herself and certainly not to the rest of the team. "It just feels like the right thing to do," Emily replied.
"Okay," he gave in more easily than he'd planned. If there was one thing he trusted, it was Emily's instincts. He also knew she could defend herself if need be. But, as he watched her exit the room, Derek still couldn't help worrying. "Hey," he called out after her. "Are we alright?"
Emily looked over her shoulder at him and nodded, feeling some of her earlier tension ebb. "Yeah, we're good," she assured him.
xxx
The soft, lilting tones of an old French folksong greeted her ears as she walked down the dimly lit hall. Emily stopped and stood in the doorway of her guest room, bare feet resting on carpet. The room bore tan walls and a full-sized bed by the window. A small nightstand held a lamp, but that was the extent of the room's décor. As she continued listening to Anna sing to her daughter, Emily found it amusing how Derek had been worried. The thought of them being dangerous had never even crossed her mind. And the scene before her further grounded Emily's belief that welcoming them into her home had been the right thing to do.
Anna had actually been the suspicious one about being invited to stay with Emily, and rightfully so. She had a child to consider and protect. But, after Emily had left work early and taken them both out to lunch, they'd spoken at length about Anna's other options. The woman had quickly come to the same conclusions as the team in regard to what might happen at a shelter. Too many questions could lead to trouble that Anna didn't need.
The lyrics faded as Michelle closed her eyes and snuggled into the foreign bed. Anna placed a kiss against her daughter's forehead, rose from her place on the edge of the mattress and moved toward the door. She and Emily leaned against opposite sides of the door frame, watching the sleeping child. "She was very tired," Anna remarked. "But she was uncertain about sleeping here. The song has long been one of her favorites. It always helps her sleep."
"Au clair de la lune," Emily had easily recognized the tune. "I remember visiting my grandfather in France; he hummed that all the time. It became a favorite of mine as well. How did you learn French?"
The older woman wrapped both arms around her waist. "From books and tapes I got at the library. But the song is actually something I've always known. I used to sing it to myself as a child. It helped me fall asleep on nights when I was too scared to shut my eyes."
Emily wondered, not for the first time that day, what exactly the Wallace's had done to Anna and Eric. The things that came to mind were of no comfort, but at least Anna had endured. "Maybe your real mother used to sing it to you?"
"Maybe," Anna agreed, her eyes brightening a little as she tried to recall. "I never actually thought about that before," she admitted. "I guess I always assumed it was Mrs. Wallace that sang it to me, but now that you mention it, I don't think she liked singing. It's strange how memories can come and go so suddenly like that."
"It could be the different setting," Emily replied. "Sometimes a change of scenery can cause different memories to surface. You spent almost your whole life on that farm, it's not surprising that things were bogged down in your mind by the sameness of your surroundings. And every little detail like the one you just remembered could help us figure out more of your past," she concluded.
Anna let a small smile lift the corners of her mouth. "That's what you do, isn't it? You study all those little details about a person."
"Yes."
"Fascinating," Anna was truly intrigued by the idea.
Emily noted the woman's interest. "You never attended a real school, did you? You never went to college?" She watched Anna shake her head. "Do you ever think you might have done something different with your life, if you'd lived with your real parents? If you'd had more opportunities to do something else?"
"Something other than farm work? Oh, yes," Anna adamantly replied. "Eric always told me how smart I was, he was the one who encouraged me to read and visit the library every chance I got. Books became an escape for me. The Wallace's taught us the basics, but I taught myself far more." A wistful smile floated across her face, having thought of the possibilities many times. "I think I would have liked to become a doctor of some sort, a pediatrician most likely. I believe helping kids would be a wonderful thing. Do you help kids in your line of work?"
"Sometimes, yes," Emily smiled too. It was sad to think of the sheltered life Anna had led, but the woman had obviously created some escapes from it all.
"But you don't have any children, or a husband," Anna boldly noted. She'd wandered through the pristinely kept home of Emily Prentiss earlier in the day, and had found very little in the way of personal touches.
Emily shook her head. "I guess I'm too married to my job. The people I work with are like family."
"What about your real family?" As Anna grew more at ease with her new friend, she also became more inquisitive. She always told her daughter that a curious soul was one that would go far and learn much in life.
"There's just my parents and I," Emily replied. "And I don't really keep in touch with them," she admitted, instantly feeling bad for the comment. Here Anna didn't even know her real family and Emily was telling her that she took hers for granted most of the time. She noticed the tired yawn that escaped the woman's mouth and welcomed the distraction. "Is there anything else you need, more blankets or…" she paused. "You could take my bed if you'd like. It would be nicer than sharing a bed with an eight-year-old. And I could crash on the sofa. I'm used to not sleeping in my own bed."
"No," Anna shook her head emphatically. "I couldn't impose like that. This," she waved a hand over the yoga pants and t-shirt she was borrowing to sleep in, and then motioned toward the guest room where her daughter was fast asleep. "What you've done for us is already too much kindness."
Emily shrugged Anna's words off. She believed firmly in the old saying, what goes around comes around. "Well, you know where the bathroom is," she pointed over her shoulder. "And I'll leave the hall light on for you. If you wake up, there's tea in the cupboard closest to the fridge and coffee in the canister by the stove. I imagine you'd like to sleep in after today's events, though." Emily knew that emotional exhaustion could almost be worse than the physical type.
Anna placed a hand gently upon her host's shoulder. "Please, do not worry about us. We will be fine."
A slow smile crept over Emily's lips. She nodded, finding it funny how Anna was the one reassuring her when it should have been the other way around. That was certainly a motherly trait. "Well, goodnight then."
"Emily," Anna stopped her before she could leave. "There is one thing. Do you lock your weapon at night?"
A brief moment of fear slid down Emily's back like ice cold fingers. Then she followed Anna's gaze and spotted Michelle tucked in, safe and warm in the bed. Emily let out a soft sigh of relief, realizing the woman's worry. "Yes," she answered in a reassuring manner.
Anna also breathed a sigh of relief. She gave Emily a quick nod of thanks and said a final, "Goodnight."
Emily retreated to the sanctity of her bedroom. She hadn't lied to Anna about being used to sleeping in other beds, but she had to admit there was something special about climbing into her own. Even so, her eyes closed for a long time without success of sleep and Emily finally sat up again and flicked on the bedside lamp. She thought briefly about counting sheep and other equally ridiculous ways of trying to induce sleep. Then she spotted something sticking up out of her work bag. Emily got up, plucked the item out of the leather tote and settled back into bed.
Eric Wallace's journal cover stared back at her as she contemplated reading some of his other entries. It seemed wrong, yet Anna had been willing to offer up his words as a means to help. At the moment, Emily was keen on helping if she could. The fabric cover was tattered, and when she flipped it open Emily couldn't help being intrigued by what she might discover.
"It's been ten years since Anna arrived and I still can't forget the horrible thoughts I had the first day I saw her. I know I was just a kid and scared. But the first thing I thought was that maybe now she will be the one they lock in that smelly old barn on Sundays. Maybe she will be the one they preach to. And maybe... maybe she'll be the one they do those other horrible things to instead of me..."
She slammed the journal shut with shaking hands. Emily let it fall to the floor and quickly turned off the lamp. As she lay curled up tight beneath her bed covers, Emily tried to think of something other than all the awful scenarios running through her head; things the Wallace's might have done to Anna and Eric. But thoughts of her recurring dream also crept back into her head and Emily feared she might never fall asleep again.
To Be Continued...