Chapter 3:
I spend hours sitting on the stone cold concrete floor of our unfinished basement, staring at the document in front of me although every bit of it is already pressed into my brain. I am broken from my trance when I hear the shut of a door and the stumbling of feet above me. I quickly slip the red folder under my shirt, then make my way up the creaky stair case. I place the folder on the stairs leading to the second floor, so I can get it later.
"Mom?" I call out as I hear the crashing of pots and pans coming from the kitchen. I take ten steps and my mother comes into view, rummaging in the refrigerator and pulling out a carton of eggs. I watch from a far as she cracks two eggs into a pan, shells and all.
"What are you doing?" I question as the pan sizzles.
"Lia! You're home!" she grins and turns to the counter behind her, where set up is a cutting board, onions, cheese, and a rather large cutting knife. "I'm making an omelet, you want?" she asks as if it was seven in the morning on a Sunday. She tries to chop the red onion in front of her, but before she could do any damage-
"Mom you're going to cut your fingers off" I warn and take the knife out of her hand. Her smile turns into a frown as I turn off the stove and toss the pan into the sink, running it under cold water.
"Hey!" she shouts and goes to grab the pan out of the sink.
"Mom, you're drunk. I'm not letting you operate a stove" I assert almost robotically. "It's 2 o'clock in the morning, why don't you call it a night and go to sleep?" I try and hide the anger in voice, knowing she won't remember this when she wakes up tomorrow.
"But I'm hungry" she whines and pouts, tugging on my arm as she slides down the cabinets and onto the tile floor. I let out a large sigh as I know how the rest of the night will play out.
"Mom, let go of my arm" I say as her grip tightens. I rip myself from her grasp and she slumps against the cabinets.
"It's not fair" she shouts, slightly slurring, and tilts her head backwards, tears following shortly behind. I go into the pantry and pull out a sleeve of Ritz crackers.
"Come on, let's go" I say as I grab her by the armpits to try to hoist her up, but her legs go limp. I let out another sigh as she slurs nonsense to herself. I drag her to the living room couch, take her shoes off, and cover her with a blanket. I place the crackers on the floor below her, although I know she has probably already forgotten about them. Within moments she's snoring. I grab the folder from the stairs and return to the kitchen to clean up the mess my mom made; get a glass of water for when my mother wakes up, then decide to spend the night on the recliner a few feet from the sofa- in case she wakes up in the middle of the night. I have become accustomed to doing this over the past few years, just to make sure she makes it through the night alright.
Four hours of interrupted shut eye and the sun begins to rise, casting a layer of stillness over the surrounding area. Giving up on sleep and sure my mother will not wake for a matter of hours, I retreat into my bedroom where Penny is sleeping soundly on my pillow.
Deciding that a run will clear my head, I go into my closet and pull out a pair of black compression pants, a plain white t-shirt, and a light purple sports bra. I slip on my running sneakers and next thing I know I'm out the door. I try and focus shearly on my feet pounding against the asphalt, putting my troubles out of my mind, and for the four miles and forty-five minutes of my adventure it works, until I arrive back at the foot of my driveway and there it all is again.
When I walk through the front door at exactly 6:57 am, I head straight up the stairs and jump into the shower, Penny following me into the bathroom as per usual and takes her perch on the white toilet lid.
Eight hours pass and I have not moved from my bed. My time has been spent online locating as much information as I can find on my so-called half-brother; and I find a great deal. Mostly about accomplishments he's made, articles that his team is featured in, and pieces he's written on a sloo of highly intellectual concepts. I for the life of me cannot find an e-mail address that I could reach him at, and I don't think this is the type of situation you discuss over the phone. So, I'll have to find another way.
The clock strikes 7 and I decide it's time to eat.
When I open my bedroom door, I hear the faint sound of the television, two voices peaking through. Curious, I walk down the stairs quietly, and from there I can see directly into the living room. On the couch is my mother, wine glass in her hand, and sitting with his arm around her is John, my mothers on and off again boyfriend- also a drunk. The last time I saw him I almost called the cops because he was whaling on my mom, but he left before I could even dial the number.
I purposely avoid the living room and slip into the kitchen, trying my best to stay as quiet as possible. I take a bowl out from the cabinet and place it on the counter, then I take a box of cereal from the pantry. I pour the honey nut cheerios into the bowl, and fill in the spaces with 2% milk. Just as I thought I was in the clear-
"Lia? Is that you?" My mother calls, I roll my eyes.
"Yeah mom, just me" I groan and make my way to the bottom of the stairs.
"Come here for a second sweetie" she surprisingly doesn't slur. I roll my eyes yet again and slowly walk into the living room, my cold demeanor following behind.
"Yeah?" I raise, trying not to look at the pot-bellied loser directly to my right.
"Come sit down" she pats the spot next to her.
"Yeah! Long time no see sweet cheeks" John spews with his grimy smile and grabs my ass, I flinch and he un-grips.
"I have a lot of homework, sorry" I say as I shove a spoonful of cereal into my mouth.
"Come on, please?" my mother begs and grabs my hand. For a second I consider her offer, but then I remember- what a horrible idea.
"I'm sorry, I'll watch a movie with you tomorrow" I say into the eyes of my mother, "Promise" I grin and she kisses the top oh my hand. Our hands split and turn to leave the room, "Love you" I call, "love you back" she replies.
I get up to my room and woof down the bowl of cereal within minutes. I sit in silence, with the exception of Penny's purring, and gather my thoughts. I pull together every official document and paper that link the two of us as siblings, and place them in a dark blue folder and slide them right into my messenger bag. I glance at the clock – 7:38, and start dialing my phone.
"Ethan!" I shout before he could even say hello.
He sighs, "Yes Lia?"
"Would you be up for an adventure after practice tomorrow?" I ask eagerly.
"I guess so, where to?" he replies innocently.
"Lake Ridge" I completely make up, as it's the closest town to Quantico I can think of.
"What's in Lake Ridge?" he asks
"You'll see tomorrow, I'll pick you up at 4:30 tomorrow" I tell him, which clearly causes some skepticism on his end.
"Lia you can't legally drive" he remindes me,
"Of shush, I'll see you tomorrow" I scoff
"See ya then" Ethan replies and the call goes dead. Little does he know there's nothing in Lake Ridge, but there is something in Quantico: the FBI Headquarters'.