Chapter 3: Before the Sun Rises
It was ten minutes after midnight when Lena Kaligaris finally fell asleep. She hadn't even returned to her empty loft until the night sky was filled with darkness and no respectable girl was out in the streets that late. The female had stayed huddled in the corner of her favorite coffee shop, glancing through a book of poetry she had recently bought. She would have stayed there all night, if the manager had not gently forced her out so he could close up.
Normally on who cherished the comfort of her bed and the warmth of her covers, Lena felt distraught entering her home. That particular night, the high ceiling and lack of furniture seemed to depress her. She wished, as she drifted off into a dreamland, that she had decorated a bit more.
She had fallen in love with the place the moment the owner gave her the walk-through. It was the top story in an apartment complex located in downtown New York, and within walking distance of her studio. There was only two rooms and a bathroom, with the kitchen and living room being one gigantic floor, but Lena didn't mind. The place already came with the necessary kitchen appliances and a stiff red couch made of scratchy material.
Lena had signed the lease papers that same day and had lived there for almost two years. In that long period of time, the only additions she had made to the place were moving in her queen sized bed, a large dresser, a small round kitchen table and matching chairs. She had no need for a desk or a entertainment set. She carried a laptop that she kept on the kitchen table, and television had become more of a distraction than a relaxation aid.
The sound of a car alarm woke Lena. Turning on her side, she looked at her phone and saw only half an hour had passed since she'd fallen asleep.
Who am I kidding?
Throwing off the thin sheet she had been burrowed under, Lena left her bed and walked into the main room. She thought about turning on a light, but preferred the darkness.
Making her way over to her computer, she clicked the icon to take her to the internet and waited. Why was she doing this? It made no sense. Just because of that dumb phone call she was shaking her entire world up.
I must be crazy.
Without realizing what she had done, the website for a filmmaker's association appeared on her computer screen. Scrolling down the page, Lena confirmed what her caller from earlier that day had told her.
Along the bottom of the page was a list of names of all the people in the elite group.
I can't do this.
Lena shivered in her thin nightclothes.
I have to.
Taking one last long look at one of the names, she slammed the notebook shut and stood up.
Where did I put them?
Her feet shuffling across the cold floor, Lena tried to remember where she'd kept her suitcases. It had been several months since they'd been in use. Her job required trips only if she consented to them, and with her younger sibling, Effie relocated to Boston, she rarely went anywhere long enough to need such heavy luggage.
After crawling under her dusty bed, the girl found them. Three large, black, rectangular containters, one containing an old receipt, another a musty paperback novel. Sighing, Lena ran a hand through her soft hair. She had never been a rash person. She had always taken things slowly and thought every detail through. But she knew, from the moment she hung up her phone on Bridget, that there was no time to think.
She had to go back home.
Return to Bethesda.
She had to forget her upcoming art show, and put all that behind her.
Her past was calling.
And was being forced, by her inner self, to answer it.