Chapter 1
The boy had been thrown into the basement for safekeeping. There were no windows, only the door at the top of the stairs, which he kept locked at all times.
Raoul looked around at the house. Sometimes Luka astounded him with her lack of taste. The dump had been advertised as "quaint, charming, for someone who is ambitious". Also defined as a tiny matchbox with one bedroom and an airtight basement in the middle of nowhere that needed some serious help. The Okanogan corner of Washington was sparcely populated, so the house had come with twelve acres of land, but still. They only had to tolerate it for a few months, and then there would be no need. He could get on a jet plane and fly to his estate in Northern Austria and be done with them all.
His long legs only needed to take four steps between the living room and the bedroom. As he closed the door behind him to prepare for bed, he could hear moaning from the basement. The boy was crying in his sleep – a name. Over and over.
"Bella."
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Charlie looked up from his paperwork when Billy Black filled the office doorway. His friend had aged a hundred years since they had last seen each other.
"Is there any news?" Billy's voice broke the silence.
"No," Charlie shook his head, "I'm so sorry."
Two weeks ago, some unknown group had set fire to the Quileute Indian Reservation in La Push. The forests had burned almost instantly, and the villages – well, some survived and some didn't. Charlie had gone home every day feeling like finding a new career. The worst thing was to call another family to tell them that so and so's body had been found – or what they thought was once so and so's body. The victims of the fire were charred beyond recognition. The worst thing was, some were still unaccounted for. The most pressing of the missing was Billy's fifteen year old son, Jacob.
"I know he's still out there, Charlie," Billy's voice faltered for a moment, "I just – I know."
"We're trying," Charlie said the only words he could to comfort his friend, "We'll keep trying. I promise."
Billy nodded mutely and left. After the door closed behind him, Charlie buried his face in his hands, still trying to let the immenseness of the tragedy sink in.
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