A/N: I'm ba-a-a-a-a-a-ack! When was the last time I updated? Too long ago. Argh. Like I've said, I am NOT ignoring you, or this, or anything.
Chapter 7: Of Scrapbooks and Sleepwalking
1980
Stepping carefully over the sleeping Rena, Annette tiptoed into Eva's room. She located the scrapbooks and took a seat in the hallway, ready to stuff the books under a towel in case Eva decided to sleepwalk.
The first pictures were of Eva when she was about fifteen. She was wearing a red and black plaid shirt and tight black jeans, sitting on a brown car. Her face was lit up in a brilliant smile, and her arm was around another girl who had tanned skin and blonde hair.
Annette tapped her chin. The younger girl resembled Margaret in a way, but something was...wrong. Eva was as pale as could be and this girl looked like she'd just gotten off a plane from California.
The photo flaked off the page and into Annette's lap. She eagerly turned it over, but there was too much glue gobbed over the writing to read it (obviously the result of Eva's pasting skills). Groaning, Annette stuck it back into the book and kept flipping.
The same blonde girl was in another picture, this time wearing a pleated violet chiffon dress. She was standing in front of...
It couldn't be.
Annette pulled off her glasses and looked closer at the picture.
This girl, whoever she was, was standing by none other than her father.
Annette sprang to her feet and charged downstairs. "Who is this?" she whisper-yelled at Charles.
Charles jerked awake. "Dear, you scared me half to death." He blinked. "Who?"
"The blonde." Annette handed him the book.
"I told her it wouldn't work. I told her." Charles sighed. "But she...she didn't listen. Damn it, Margaret!" He slammed his fist on the couch.
"Dad?" asked Annette. "Who? What wouldn't work?"
"Annette, I made a--a solemn vow to Margaret."
"What was it?" Annette was perched on the edge of the couch, almost falling off with anticipation. Once again, she was reminded that her grade-school nickname of 'Miss Holmes' was still alive and well.
"NO! PLEASE..."
"What was that?" gasped Annette, leaping off the couch. "It sounds like..."
"That's Eva," Erin said. She slowly opened her eyes. "Let's go get her."
The two women went up the stairs and almost ran straight into Eva. She was standing at the top of the first landing, her eyes glazed over and a pen clutched in her hand like a dagger.
Erin sighed. "She's sleepwalking. Eva? Sweetie, wake up."
Eva's body jerked. "Oh, it's you." She grinned tightly. "I was just reliving the time I read the part of Lady Macbeth in tenth grade."
"Maybe you'd better go back to sleep," Annette advised.
"Yeah," said Eva, blinking slowly. "See you tomorrow."
"Or five A.M., whichever comes first," Erin said.
Eva went back to bed and Annette and Erin walked back downstairs.
"Hey, what's that?" Erin's gaze had landed on the daisy-covered scrapbook.
Annette furrowed her eyebrows. "At the moment, I have no idea."