Alex drove too fast through the back roads leading back to Grandview. Melinda held on to the seats so tightly, she felt as if she would tear trough the leather with her finger nails. Alex appeared to se her distress and slowed down. "Did you think I was going to hit something?" she asked, smirking. "No, I thought you were going to run over something," Melinda retorted. Alex laughed, "These back roads are so unused that it would be pointless to go slow. But if it makes you feel better, I'll slow down."

The dark green trees were still nothing more than smudges as they passed, but finally, the endless stretch of straight road offered a turn. Alex took it. The narrow road, which hadn't been paved in a while, cut through the forest and led to a three way intersection, again Alex turned. This time the road went for a way until leading to a private driveway. Alex drove onto the familiar path up to her house. Out the corner of her eye, she could see Melinda gawk at her extensive house.

She whipped into the driveway and got out of the car. Melinda did the same, still wowed by the beautiful two story house. "You live here alone?" she asked, amazed.

"Yeah. Just me and the ghosts," Alex replied. "Come inside." As they stepped in, Melinda was still very impressed. "This is your house?"

"Actually, it was my grandparent's house. When they passed away, my father couldn't bare to sell it. It was the house he grew up in."

"So it's been in the family for a while."

"Yes. Since my parents live up in Lakepoint, and I'm going to Rocklynn in the fall, they let me to stay here. I'll tell you, the first time I saw this place, I fell in love with it." They were in the kitchen now, and Melinda began to notice how clean this place was. "The cleanliness," Alex explained, knowing that most people her age could care less about a clean house, "is just something I like to maintain."

"I'm a grown woman and I still don't like to clean," Melinda laughed. Alex chuckled too, "Well, when it takes like, two seconds, you don't really mind it so much. Would you like to sit down?"

"Sure, but why are we here? Shouldn't we be looking for the girl's foster parents."

"'Parents' being a term used lightly in this case," Alex muttered. "As for looking for them, would you like to go door to door?"

"Oh."

"Come on, let's go find my computer." Alex led Melinda to the sun room, and again, Melinda gasped. "Wow. This place is beautiful." She looked around and saw the piano, guitars, and drum set. "I didn't know you played music."

"It's a hobby. It's a great thing to do when you want to blow off steam. Music tells all." She unfolded her laptop and typed in 'Marla and Donny Paulson.' To her dismay, nothing was found. "Okay," she thought, annoyed. She began to fumble around her desk. "What are you looking for," Melinda asked.

"A phone book." She laughed, "I may have to call my mom to ask her where it is." She opened a drawer and finally found the book. "Got it."

She thumbed through the white pages, quietly murmuring incorrect names, "Aaron Paulson, Benjamin Paulson, Charles Paulson… Hah! Here they are, Donald and Marla Paulson. 2117 Linda Drive. That's here in town."

"That's the address in the news article," Melinda confirmed.

"That's where I used to live," a voice cut in. Both Alex and Melinda turned toward the voice. It was Samantha. "Hey," Alex greeted. "So this is right. We'll find Jimmy here?" Samantha nodded. Alex grinned, "Don't worry, we will get him out of there, I promise." Samantha smiled too, appeased, and left.

Alex pulled out her cell phone and flipped through the phone book again. "Who are you going to call?" Melinda wondered aloud.
"Child services. Maybe they can help." She began to dial the number from the book. "It's ringing." A few minutes later, a woman answered. "Hello," Alex began, "I'm calling to report child abuse." There was silence as Alex waited for a response. "No I don't have proof." Her brow furrowed as the woman on the other line spoke. "What do you mean a week? The kid could be dead by then… Lady, if you want to hear rude, I'll give you rude, just let me talk to your supervisor… No, I don't want to hear how many children are in need of your organization's help. I'm trying to tell you about one who needs help now... No, this is not a prank. You'd know that if you would lift a finger to help me… Cut the crap lady. I need help. The child I'm talking about needs help. If you're so ready to call the police on a prank call, and, by the way, you have no proof, send them over to this kid that needs help… Yeah goodbye! Have a nice night!" Alex's sarcasm took over the last bit of conversation. "And go to Hell while your at it," she added under her breath.

Alex turned to Melinda, anger still flaring in her eyes, although her expression was composed. "Sorry about that. The idiot said I need proof before they can immediately send help. She flopped down on the couch. "What are we going to do?" Melinda wondered aloud. "Jimmy still needs help, and Samantha needs to cross over."

Alex looked at her from the corner of her eye. "I don't know about you, but I don't intend to let this go on until he ends up like Samantha. I refuse to give up."

"What are you going to do? No one is going to believe us."

"I believe us, and that's good enough for me. I'm going to the house tomorrow; I'm going to save a life. This time, there won't be any regrets."