Here's another chapter! In answer to your questions, everyone, I will keep you in suspense on all your questions.

If I reference any real reporters, it is completely accidental. And if I make a seriously awful TV CNN report, I apologize. I don't watch news channels.

Is my audience ready? Then LET'S BEGIN!

"Mara, help me carry her into the house. Now!" I grabbed Mom's wrists. Melody picked her up by her ankles and we dragged her into the house. Gently we placed her on the sofa and I turned to Mara. "Should we call 9-1-1?"

Mara's mouth opened, but before she could respond a low groan came from the sofa. Mom's eyes fluttered open.

"...are...see..."

I touched her hand. "It's okay, Mom. You're okay."

I could practically feel Mara's eyes burning into the back of my head, screaming at me to ask her what was going on, but I ignored her. Whatever it was, it was big enough that Mom had fainted. So I wasn't going to push it.

Yet.

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"What secrets do you hold?" I whispered as I got off my motorcycle. "What is it about you that shocked Mom?" I fluttered my hands across the smooth metal.

To say the least, I had been...distracted. All day I couldn't get the picture of Mom sinking to the floor, her eyes glued to the bike like it would bite her, out of my head. Multiple times in all of my classes I had been scolded for not paying attention, and my coworkers at the fast food restaraunt I work at kept having to yell, "Mel! Snap out of it!"

It was just strange. Why had she fainted?

Was she hiding something from us?

And if she was, why?

I sighed. All these questions were only going to give me a headache. Slowly I walked toward the garage door and opened it. I was alone; Mom worked a late shift on Fridays and Mara was at a friend's house.

I walked into the living room and flopped on the couch. I grabbed the remote control and looked through our recorded channels. When I saw CNN, I clicked it. I always recorded CNN because I like to keep on top of things happening in the world, and this is virtually the only time I get to, since Mara hates it. I could almost hear her voice groaning, "But everything on that show is so pessimistic! Hello, it's CNN-Constant Negative News?"

"BREAKING NEWS!" blared the screen. "Old search for young man renewed with new discovery."

Interesting.

A older-looking woman appeared on the screen. "Hi, I'm Maria Meyers. On March 24, 2013, about 16 years ago, a young man, named Jackson Darby, went missing under confused circumstances."

JACKSON DARBY?

A picture flashed across the screen and left no doubt. It was all there: the black hair, the blue eyes, the friendly smile, the narrow face. Dad.

"He left behind a young wife and a child, who also both disappeared."

Huh? Half a minute. We weren't missing. What's going on? And Dad was killed in action. He didn't go 'missing'.

"Miko Darby and her daughter moved out of Jasper, Nevada, Jack's hometown. They have not been heard from since. His mother gave no comment and the young man was never heard from again. Until now."

The screen moved to another picture. This picture was of a motorcycle and a large, practically armored SUV driving down the road.

"This picture was taken yesterday. The motorcycle has been identified as Jackson's. It, too, went missing at around the same time. The driver in this picture appears to have the same build as Jackson. Not only that, but the green SUV that his wife used to drive has also appeared. Perhaps the two are together again? A search for the mystery cars has begun and may continue for several weeks."

I paused it. I couldn't take it. According to the report my dad had gone missing. It didn't mention anything about military or deployed to Afghanistan. It treated him as if he had been kidnapped.

Then why has Mom always told me that my father was killed in action?

He was killed! Mom said so! And she wouldn't lie to me!

Would she?

I looked at the paused picture of the two cars.

That's when it hit me. Of course. That's why Mom fainted.

The motorcycle in the picture and the one I owned were almost exactly the same.

The bike in the picture was mostly blue with sliver highlights, just like mine. But unlike mine, this motorcycle had pink highlights as well. It also looked thinner and sleeker than mine. If that was possible.

I had bought an almost perfect replica of Dad's motorcycle. No wonder Mom fainted.

Or is it?

"Mom wouldn't faint over something like that," I said out loud. "She would be surprised, maybe shocked, but she wouldn't have fainted. It would take a really serious shock for someone to faint. If Dad or a really close friend that she hasn't seen had arrived, maybe. But seeing a motorcycle that looks similar to Dad's? That's not enough. It just isn't."

It seemed I had gotten a few questions answered, but they had only created more. Mom had fainted because Dad used to ride a motorcycle that was similar to mine. And she was most definitely hiding something. For some reason, she hadn't wanted me to know what had happened to Dad. Why? I had no idea.

One thing was for certain. I was going to find out the mystery of my father.

And, like a good detective, I needed to search for evidence. Where should I start?

Psh. Easy.

I jumped up, ran out of the living room, and sped down the hall. I knew that Mom kept her most precious possessions in the one place that we almost never trespassed. Her room.

I felt a twinge of guilt as I stood in front of her door. Should I really sneak into my mother's bedroom? A part of me was angry at Mom for lying, but another part screamed that she must have had a reason for hiding.

What would happen if I opened that door? Either my current beliefs would be confirmed or confounded. I took a deep breath, grasped the handle, and turned it, opening the door.

Mom's room was very simple. It had a bed with a light pink bedspread and light green throw rug on top on one side, a two-shelf bookshelf on the other side stuffed with books, and a light green circle rug in between. It was small, but calming and peaceful. I stood on the rug and put my my finger on my lips in concentration.

If Mom was keeping a secret, ten to one she would have recorded it somewhere-diaries, notes, pictures (lots of those-my mom was a shameless photographer and always had been). So my first choice of searching would be...the bookshelf.

I stepped in front of the bookshelf and began scanning the spines. It was filled with books: The Hunger Games Trilogy, The Lord of the Rings trilogy, the Twilight series, the entire Warriors series, the list went on and on.

But no photo albums. Or diaries. Or anything that I was looking for.

Then I saw it. My favorite book A Wrinkle in Time by Madeline L'Engle. I didn't know Mom owned that book. But I wasn't finding anything right now. So I reached up and grabbed the spine. It was stuck between the books, so I pulled a little harder.

There was a faint click, a whirring sound, then the book snapped towards me. To my surprise, it was only the outside binding connected to the bookshelf by a string. Before I could even move, the bookshelf slowly slid to the side, revealing a tiny passageway behind it.

Mom had a secret room inside her room?

I crouched down on all fours and began to crawl inside, not knowing that I would never be the same again.