If I Die Today

CHAPTER 1

HANNAH

“Wait here Eli. I just have to go to the bathroom okay?” We are standing by the restrooms in the grocery store.

“Can’t I come in with you, Hannah?” Eli looks at me pleadingly.

“No Eli. Besides, it is the girl’s restroom. I will only be a few seconds. Just stay here and wait for me.” I run inside and enter the second stall. After I am finished, I wash my hands and walk out of the restroom.

“I told you I would only be a few seconds didn’t I?” I find that Eli is not standing beside the restroom anymore. In fact, he is nowhere in sight. “Eli!” Only the sound of shoppers and their carts answers me. “Eli!” I call his name once more but there is still no reply. I search the aisles until I catch a glimpse of my parents taking two boxes of granola from the shelf which they place in the cart. As soon as I reach them, they notice that Eli is not with me. “He was waiting outside the bathroom for me-he wanted to come-I told him I would only be a few seconds…”

“Where is he, Hannah?” my mother asks me, trying to keep herself calm. She searches my eyes and realizes that I have no answer for her.

4:00 A.M. I wake up, my sheets clenched tightly in my hands. My forehead drips with sweat and I glance at my alarm clock. “Yep, right on schedule Hannah,” I mumble to myself. I let go of my sheets and find my way to the kitchen where my mother sits at the table staring at the wall.

“How did it happen this time?” I know that my mother’s question is addressed towards me, even though her gaze does not leave the wall in front of her.

“We were at the store. I had to go the bathroom and Eli wanted to come with me.” I struggle to compose myself and tell her how it ended. I blink back the tears.

“I told him to stand outside while I went to the bathroom… that I would be back in a minute. Then when I came back, he was gone.”

There’s no use holding back the tears this time. They flow down my cheeks and I sob for what feels like an hour. All the while, my mother does not get up to comfort me and calm me down. She doesn’t even look at me. No, she just continues to stare at that wall.

“I have tried so hard to put it out of my mind but how can I go on living with the fact that Eli is missing? I know what you’re thinking; the police are doing everything in their power to find out who the kidnappers are and where they have taken him. But I miss him with every bone in my body. Everywhere I go reminds me of him. Everything I do reminds me of him. And even when you and dad reassure me that it is not my fault, I still feel responsible. The guilt remains and there is nothing that I can do to change it.”

After the last tear falls, I grab a glass from the cabinet. I fill it to the top and gulp down the cold water, put it in the sink. I kiss my mom on the cheek and return to my bedroom. I know that the nightmares are over for today and I also know that I won’t be able to fall back asleep. I think back to that day he was kidnapped, feeling as guilty as ever.

 “Strawberry or raspberry?” I ask Eli. He looks at me, weighing the two choices in his mind.

“Raspberry, definitely raspberry,” my little brother answers with confidence. I smile at this and turn to the window where a girl waits for his decision. She stares into space, chewing her bubblegum. It seems as if she would rather be anywhere else in the world but here, taking orders and scooping Italian ice into Styrofoam bowls.

“Raspberry, please,” I interrupt her day-dreaming and she nods her head.

“So one orange for you and one raspberry for the boy?” I answer yes and the girl turns around, leaves the window, and heads to the back to prepare our treats. Eli and I take a seat at one of the little tables to the left of the Italian ice stand. My brother looks around curiously, and I already know what he’s thinking before he looks at me and asks.

“Dad and mom are inside that store across the street with the bassinette in the window. They are looking for some furniture to put in the nursery for the baby when it’s born.”

Normally my parents wouldn’t feel comfortable with Eli being somewhere without them, even though I am 17. Despite our age difference, being that Eli is 11, we are very close. He is my best friend and I am his Even I might worry that something would happen to him.                                                                                                                                    

But, Eli saw the little stand across the street and practically begged our parents go get some. Mom thought it would be alright and we all started toward the stand, but when she looked across the street and saw a family walk out of a store with their baby holding a fuzzy teddy bear, she couldn’t wait another minute to go look inside. She agreed for Eli and us to go; she handed me ten dollars and then our parents went inside the store across the street to look for baby furniture. Eli didn’t even glance back as we headed to the Italian ice stand.

“One orange and one raspberry Italian ice!” the girl calls in our direction.

“I’m going to get our treats Eli.” I walk over to the window where the girl holds a bowl of orange ice in one hand, and a raspberry in the other. My mind starts to wander off and I people going into stores, coming out. Philly can get pretty busy on a Saturday afternoon.

“That’ll be six dollars, please.” I hand her the 10 dollars and wait for her to give me the change. Then, I turn around to walk back to the table but stop and face her. She gave me six dollars change instead of four.

“Um… you gave me back two extra dollars. Here you go.” I hand her the two dollars and start for the tables. I turn around again to address her again, thinking of something else.

“I’m sorry to bother you again, but could we have some napkins?” I know how messy Eli is and I do not want mom to have to get upset that he has stained another nice shirt.

It takes her forever just to get a few napkins. I wait patiently, noticing that the treats are beginning to melt in the hot sun. It has to be 85 degrees, at least. I look around me, observing. There is a sign that reads Chestnut Grove Plaza. People entering stores, people coming out of stores.

A toddler waddles along down the street with their mother, yanking on her arm to get her mother’s attention. A girl with blonde hair pulled up into a ponytail carrying a book walks behind the Italian ice stand.  A brother and sister are holding hands, roller blading down the street. The sister falls on the sidewalk and he helps her up. Finally, the lady reappears at the window.

“Thank you,” I tell her as she hands me a huge stack of napkins. With a smile from ear to ear, I walk to the table left of the stand holding both bowls of Italian ice in my hand. “These look good Eli.  What do you think?”

When I look up, Eli is nowhere to be found. “Eli? Where are you? Quit playing around. Yours is already starting to melt. Eli?” I glance to the left, then to the right. All that I see is cars and people. None of which is my brother Eli. I do not see his curly brown hair or striped shirt anywhere. Eli!” I walk around the stand to the window where the girl is. No one is in line or waiting to order, so she has a book opened and is reading.

“Hi. Have you by any chance seen my brother? He was with me when I ordered. When I came back from paying, he was gone. I cannot find him anywhere. He’s 11 years old with curly brown hair. He was wearing a shirt with black and blue stripes.”

“No. Sorry. Last time I saw him was when you ordered.”

My heart begins to beat faster. I drop the treats and run across the street to the store my parents are in. Dad! Mom! I cannot find Eli!” I open up the door and run inside.

…

After that, we searched everywhere. Every store in the plaza. Every little stand. The manager of the store my parents were shopping in made an announcement that an eleven year old boy was missing.

Two days later, the police began a search for Eli and the neighbors assured us that if there was anything they could do, make sure to let them know. People from school told me they heard the news and were sorry. People at work told my dad they heard the news and were sorry.

Three weeks later, no one mentioned Eli anymore. Neighbors and family friends stopped looking for him and forgot that he ever existed. My little brother was nothing but a distant memory to them. But I still dreamt about Eli. Every night. Each dream is the same: he’s there and then he isn’t. The only thing that changes is the middle. How he was kidnapped.

It has now been 3 months since my brother was kidnapped. My alarm clock rings at 6:00 to wake me up for school, but I am already up. I have been up since 4:00 A.M. because of my dream. I drag myself out of bed to get dressed for school. On my neck is the macaroni necklace that Eli made me for my 16th birthday. I remember the day that he gave it to me. He told me that he made it at school.

“The teacher had us all make macaroni necklaces for someone special. I made mine for you Hannah. Happy birthday!” The smile on Eli’s face when he handed the necklace to me was one of pure bliss. Among so many other things that I love about my brother, Eli is generous and giving at heart. He finds pleasure out of doing things for others. I know so many people who would do anything to have this attribute and for Eli it comes as natural as a baby learning to crawl.

“Thanks so much! I love it.” Eli put the macaroni necklace around my neck and I hugged him. “I am never taking it off. Except to shower, of course.” Eli laughs at this and we hug each other once more.

I let go of the necklace because tears start to fall down my cheeks. I know that Eli would hate seeing me like this, but I cannot help it. If only I would have let him come into the bathroom to wait, none of this would have ever happened. I finished getting dressed for school and walk down stairs. My father and I enter the kitchen simultaneously.

“Good morning dad. Sleep well?” I walk over to the cabinet and grab a glass from the shelf. I fill the glass with orange juice. As I sit down at the table, my dad brings me a banana and a piece of toast on a plate.

“I slept fine. It is your mother I’m worried about. Every night she wakes up half way through the night and she mopes around the house. It’s not good for her with the baby and all. I try to tell her, but I do not think that she even hears me.”

“I don’t think that she hears me either, dad.” I take my empty plate and glass to the sink. The clock on the microwave says 6:24. I go back upstairs to finish getting ready for school. On my way into my bedroom, I see my mother open Eli’s bedroom door and enter the room. Curious, I walk to the bedroom. My mother is sitting on Eli’s bed. In her left hand, she clasps Eli’s stuffed toy dinosaur. As I walk closer to the bed, I notice that she is crying. I know that I should turn around and continue getting ready for school, but I stand there and watch her silently. After several seconds, I come up to the bed and sit next to her.

“Hannah! I didn’t know that anyone was in here with me.” My mother tries to dry the tears streaming down her face nonchalantly, but she cannot hide her wan expression from me, of all people. This is the same expression I have each day when I think about my brother.

“I was just thinking about the day that he was born. The nurse brought him to me. I can picture his little hands in a fist; his eyes squinted from the bright hospital lights. He smelled like lavender soap as I cradled his little head in my arms. He looked like a little peach covered in a layer of soft, tiny hairs. I know that you miss him a lot, Hannah. I really do understand what you’re going through, I truly do. I want you to know that. You think that I sit in the house all day, depressed. You’re right. But it’s because I lost my son. He was taken from me. You do not understand what it feels like for a mother to hold her newborn child in her arms one day, and have him gone the next. And I hope that you never do understand what it feels like.”

“I’m so sorry, mom.” I sit down on the bed next to my mom. I wrap my arms around her and we sit there, we two, in a warm embrace all the while crying our eyes out. It seems like forever since I had hugged my mother. I missed the feeling.

I ride the bus to school and the day goes by in a blur. By lunchtime, I was ready to get in my car and drive home. The kids at lunch talked about whether or not they should ask the new girl to sit at their table or who Donnie Rivers was going to ask to the spring dance. No one even believes Eli is still alive, after 3 months of nothing. So they do not even bother to bring him up. My history teacher mentioned something about a test on the next chapter tomorrow, but I was thinking about Eli. In trigonometry, we learned a new lesson and the class took notes, but I was thinking about Eli. I knew that I should have been paying attention, and I did try to, but my mind always wandered back to my brother.

Trying to make it right, I told myself that I would just ask María what the homework was and what I had to study. Besides Eli, she was the only person I feel is a close friend. María and I have gone to school together since 3rd grade when she moved to Philadelphia. On her very first day of school, she didn’t make many friends. It wasn’t because she was mean or shy. In fact, she is not shy at all and is one of the nicest people I have ever had the privilege to know. The reason that María didn’t make any friends, besides me, was that she couldn’t speak English very well. María moved to Philadelphia from a town in southeastern Spain called Murcia. She had taken classes to learn English prior to entering 3rd grade but she was far from fluent.

From that very first day at school, María and I found much in common. We both love nature and art, we are both the eldest child in our family, and we are both vegetarians. You couldn’t have asked for a more perfect match. I taught María how to speak English and she taught me all about Spain in return. We would spend hours dreaming up a trip in which both of our families would visit her native country where her grandparents still live.

The rest of the school day passes in a blur. After my last class, I walk to my locker and wait for María. As if on cue, she walks up to me with her backpack slung over one shoulder like always.

“You’ll need to take your history book home to read chapter 28. That’s 28, got it? And you might want to take your binder for math home, or you’ll miss the problems on the review packet that he’s going to hand out at the beginning of class tomorrow.” María smiles as I grab the necessary books and binders from my locker. 

“You are a life saver, María. What would I do without you?”

“Ay caramba! What a mess you would be!” María says. We both laugh and walk out of the school to get on the bus. For a few minutes, she doesn’t say anything and I know she is wondering whether or not it would be okay to bring up Eli. After much deliberation, she decides to. “What was last night’s dream like Hannah?”

“This time we were buying Italian ice at a little stand. I went to pay for them and the next thing I knew, Eli was gone.” María puts her arm around me and we walk like this down the sidewalk to the buses. “I’ll call you tonight after dinner,” I tell María. We part ways and board the buses.

That night, my family and I eat dinner with minimal interruptions. A question about school here, a comment on the news there. My dad is the one who finally brings up my Eli.

“I got a call today from the deputy of police. He asked me for the millionth time if there is anyone that I could think of that would want to harm any member of the family. I told him again that we had no enemies. He told me that a criminal always has a motive and he is pretty sure he knows what the motive was for whoever kidnapped Eli. Money. I look over at my mother whose eyes do not leave the mashed potatoes on her plate. I know she is not going to say anything, so I decide to.

“So you mean to tell me that all they want is money? That’s why they kidnapped Eli! If they wanted money so badly why didn’t they just rob a store? Or a bank? Why did they take away my brother, who doesn’t own more than a few dollars to his name?” By body suddenly burns with anger and I no longer have an appetite. I push my plate toward the center of the table and slouch down in my chair.

“Relax, Hannah. There’s no need to get upset. All the police are saying is that now they have a lead which means that they are one step closer figuring out who the kidnapper is.”

“And while they take their good old time with ‘leads,’ Eli could already be dead. How can they be sure what the kidnapper was after? Whoever took him obviously wanted something. But why does it matter what they wanted? All that matters is that we have Eli back in our lives. You may be able to feel content that the police are involved, that they ‘are doing everything in their power to find him.’ Personally, I can’t live with the fact that my brother’s life depends on someone I do not even know anything about!”

“Hannah!” My father calls after me as I get up from the table and leave the kitchen. I run upstairs before he can even say another word. I enter my bedroom and close the door. I lay there, crying into my sheets for a long time. Eventually, my mind starts to drift to memories of Eli and before I know it, I am asleep.

María calls me at 7:00 just like she does every night, and we talk like always until 11. I do my homework, María does hers. We talk about everything. School. Family. Our future plans. I still help her every now and then with English, too. But now, I mostly talk about Eli. My frustrations, my sadness. María is such a great listener. When I cry while we are on the phone, she doesn’t make up an excuse about why she has to go. No, she lets me cry. It is like she knows that crying helps somehow, that it makes me feel better. And sometimes it does.

CHAPTER 2

ELI

I wake up to the sound of a car coming up a gravel driveway. They’re here. Every day is the same. In the morning, I hear the car drive up. One of them comes down to give me breakfast. If you want to even call it that. It’s more like a paper plate with a two pieces of plain bread. I eat them so fast that my stomach hurts when I’m done.

I wish mom were here. She would give me some warm tea and tell me to ‘take it easy, because a tummy ache is miserable enough.’ Then, she would read me one of my favorite stories. But mom is not here, wherever here is.

The only thing that I know about this place is that there is an old barn across the street. I caught a small glimpse of it when they brought me into the house from the back of the van. There were no windows in the back of the van where I was, or I would have remembered some of the route they took bringing me here.

There is a small square window on the wall above my head.  If I were to stand on my knees and strain myself, I could see out of it, except for the shades which are shielding me from the outside world, and I from it.

Even though it is getting closer to fall and the days are getting colder, the basement that I am in is hot and stuffy, and I can barely breathe when the middle of the day hits. My forehead drips with sweat and my shirt is soaked. Around this time of day, one of them brings me canned soup. It is usually the blond-haired boy. He sets a tray down next to me with a spoon and the soup in a can on it. Sometimes, after he sets down the tray, he just stands there and looks out the window in silence. Occasionally, I wonder what he is thinking but I never ask. After a few seconds of this, he walks back upstairs to the main floor of the house.

Today, when he brings me the soup, he stands there looking out the window longer than usual. After a minute, he looks at me sitting there with chains around my ankles and my shirt soaked with sweat. It is as if he wants to ask me something, but what? He opens his mouth ready to speak, but before he can even say a word one of the others calls him from somewhere in the house.

“Flash! What the hell is taking you so long? We have to go. Get up here.” One of the others calls him from upstairs. Flash closes is mouth and I wonder what he was going to say.

“I’m coming!” He heads upstairs to where the others are waiting for him. At the top of the stairs, he looks down at me, with a kind of sad look on his face.

Flash. I repeat the name to myself. Flash. He was the only one that I did not know the name of. Out of all three, he is the youngest and the nicest to me. Neo is Flash’s brother. Grit is the meanest and the oldest. But Flash and Neo they never yell or swear at me and they never throws the food carelessly on to the floor like Grit. Each time they tell Flash to bring it down I see that everything is arranged neatly on the tray. He even sets it close to me so that I can reach it without any trouble.

When the meanest one, Grit, comes down, he either throws the tray on the floor in front of me or puts it by the boiler. With the chains on my feet, I have a hard time reaching for it. But I do not have to worry because Grit rarely ever comes down here. It is usually Flash. They send him to do the job no one wants to do-feed the dirty kid inside the basement.

And then there is Lady. She rarely ever comes down into the basement, or to the house, for that matter. I can tell when she is here, though, by her voice. Her voice is very nice. Too nice, I think.

I have only met her face to face twice. The first was the day that I was kidnapped. Hannah and I were at a little stand buying Italian ice while our parents looked for furniture for our new baby brother. My mother was five months pregnant at the time.

I waited at one of the little tables while Hannah went to pay for our treats. She had not been gone long before I noticed her. She came and sat down at the table adjacent to the one I was at. She smiled, said hi, and waved at me like we were childhood friends. I smiled and waved back. She had blonde hair and green eyes. I also remember that she has a book with her, titled Rocky Stories.

And then everything went black. It was so dark that I could not see past my nose. But the image of her stuck in my head. It was the last thing that I saw before I ended up here. When I woke up the very first day, I screamed and screamed for what seemed like hours on end. I hoped that someone would hear me. That I would be found. But nobody heard me. And nobody found me.

 Soon enough, I stopped screaming because I lost my voice. Thus came our second meeting.

I laid there on the floor hot, tired, hungry, my throat hurting. Lady walked down the steps and towards me. I could hear the footsteps coming closer; I was too tired to even look who it was that was walking towards me. So she came to me. I looked up at her. That same smile was plastered on her face. She held out a glass of water towards me. When I didn’t take it, she set it down beside me. When I didn’t pick it up to drink, she started walking back towards the stairs.

All of a sudden, some of my strength returned. I gulped down the glass of water and set it back down. She heard me set down the glass and turned around to face me.

“Where am I?” were all the words that I could muster, even though a thousand questions wandered through my mind at once.

The smile reappeared. “I wouldn’t worry about that if I were you.” I wasn’t sure exactly what to make of this, so I asked another question.

“What kind of a person would take me away from my family? And why?” Her smile disappears now and she looks down at the floor. She heads toward the stairs then stops, and turns back around.

“You’re lucky just to be here, alive. In fact, it if was up to them, you’d be dead.” She looks so serous now, that it scares me. The sudden change in her demeanor.

“What do you mean? Who’s ‘them?’ ” Lady glances toward the door, as if to make sure nobody else was here.

“Don’t you get it? You are a hostage!” I stare at her, stupefied. Why would anyone take me, an 11 year old boy, as hostage? Then it registers. They want something from my parents. But what it is that they want? I try hard to think about the reason but I remember that Lady is still standing there.

“Are you a part of this? Did you help them?”  I discover the answer to my question when she doesn’t answer. “I see. So all of the smiling and kindness is just a front. You’re not that much different from any other kidnapper.”

This time, she looks me right in the eyes. “I am the reason that you are still alive.”

“You want me to thank you for that? Well I am not going to. You don’t deserve it.” I stare at the glass, afraid to look at her. But even so I can feel her glaring at me.

I hear her walking but I still do not look up. Suddenly she is next to me, her face red. “You little brat. I saved your life. If it wasn’t for me, your sister would never see your face again.” I feel the sting of her hand across my face as she slaps me. Then she gets up and leaves. After that, she didn’t come back down. She hasn’t since. I hear her every once in a while when she comes, but that is all.

Today, they leave early so I take a nap. With no way to keep track of time, I can’t say how long I sleep. All I know is that it is not long enough.   

After I wake up, my mind wanders to my family. I miss my parents and Hannah. Hannah is my sister and also my best friend. We have always been close to each other. I think back to the day that Hannah and I had our first real fight. It was about 3 years ago. I was 6 and she was 14.

“Please. Can I Hannah, just once and then I will not ask again. I promise. I just want to look at it.”

“Eli, I love you to death but you can’t. This is very important. No looky, no touchy. Got it?” Hannah had just finished her art project- a clay bowl. It was so beautiful. It was white, engraved with swirly lines along the edge. I just wanted to hold it and look at it. But Hannah would not let me look at it.

Later on that evening, Hannah was talking to her friend María like usual. The bowl was in the kitchen, on top of the counter, pushed back to the corner where the wall met the granite countertop. I pulled over a chair to reach it. I picked it up and admired her talent. I knew Hannah loved art, but I never truly knew what she was capable of until then. Just then, Hannah entered the kitchen, still talking to María.

“Wow! I didn’t even realize…”

She scared me half to death, and I dropped the bowl. It landed on the chair, spun around, and fell to the floor where it broke into a million pieces. I had never seen my sister so angry with me. She didn’t even hang up the phone.  She just started picking the pieces up off the floor and placing them her hand.

“Look what you have done! This was my final project for art class and the teacher said that they are due in two days. I don’t have enough time now to start another from scratch. I cannot believe you did this!”

By now I there was nothing that I could do to stop the tears from running down my cheeks. I felt so sorry. Hannah’s beautiful art project was shattered and she would most likely get a failing grade for not turning it in. And it was all my fault. Through my sobbing, I managed to muster a solemn apology.

“I’m sorry Hannah. I didn’t mean to. I got scared when you came in and dropped it. I’m sorry.” I looked at my sister through shiny eyes and discovered that she was no longer picking up the pieces. She was standing up looking at me. Her eyes were shiny, too. To this day, I will never understand why she was crying. I got off the chair and went to my bedroom. I didn’t come out for the rest of the evening. 

That night after our fight, I woke up from a terrible dream. Hannah and I were hiking up a mountain. At one point, she slipped and I grabbed her hand. “Don’t let me fall, Eli. Please do not let me fall. I was holding on as tight as I possible could, but she was slipping. “I’m slipping! I’m slipping!” Hannah was crying and so was I. Her hand kept slipping and I looked down. It was a long way down.

“Hannah!” I cried out. But it was too late. I had dropped her. Just like I dropped the bowl. And then I woke up. After I woke up, I lay there thinking about what had happened. And suddenly the idea hit me. I got up from my bed and went into the kitchen. On the counter sat a bag with the remnants of my sister’s art project, right now just broken pieces.  I picked up the bag and took it to my bedroom. 

That night, I stayed up working tediously on that bowl. I glued each piece together for what was once a beautiful bowl. Except there was smudges of glue on a few pieces and glue was oozing out of the cracks.

Once I was finished, I stood back to admire my work. Not as good as when Hannah made it, but I thought it was pretty good considering I was dead tired and only 6 years old at the time.

By the time I went to bed, it was 12:45 A.M., but I couldn’t even sleep. I was so excited to give it to Hannah I could hardly even wait until morning.

                As soon as I woke up the next day, I picked up Hannah’s art project and carefully carried it to her room. I knocked on the door. No answer. She must still be sleeping, I thought to myself. Unable to contain myself from the excitement, I opened the door and went inside. With the bowl behind my back, I walked up to her bed.

“Hannah are you up? She tossed and turned, then opened up her eyes. Once everything adjusted, she looked up at me surprised.

                “Eli? What are you doing up? She slowly sits up and looks at me questioningly. I smile and bring the fixed pieces to the front. It is wrapped in leftover paper from my birthday. Spiderman. I had even put a red ribbon on it. I smile and hand it to her. She looks at it for a few seconds and then takes it from me. She takes off the ribbon, unwraps the Spiderman paper slowly. I wonder what my sister is thinking. She doesn’t say a word. Just stares.

Suddenly, she looks up at me with sad green eyes. “I asked you not to touch my art project and you did it behind my back anyway. You are careless. You don’t watch what you’re doing…” I look down. I thought she would forgive me if I were to fix it. I felt the tears rushing to my eyes like the day before.

“And I love you. So much.” Surprised, I look back up at Hannah. She is smiling at the bowl in her hands. “And I love what you did. Thank you, Eli. But you know that you didn’t have to do this. I have already forgiven you.” Hannah hugs me. I hug her too, relieved to know that everything is okay between us.

Then she recites the line to me we made up years ago, which reminds us both how much we care for each other. “Eli, if I die today, I would be content because I have you. I love you.”

CHAPTER 3

Hannah

It is 6:00 A.M. My alarm clock rings to wake me up, but like always, I am already wide awake. I get out of bed, get dressed, and head down stairs. My father is sitting at the kitchen table, talking on the phone. I notice that he is not wearing a suit and tie, his regular work day attire. My father is a lawyer for the most prestigious firm in Philadelphia. This is easy to find out, considering how serious he is and how we maintains the personality of being in a court room, even after he gets home from work.

                “Are you sure? When were you notified? Uh-huh. Yes, I am aware of what that means. So you were right the other day, about their…motives. I just hadn’t realized exactly what that meant they were after. Yes. Thank you for calling us right away, officer Hoff. I appreciate you calling us right away. I’ll see you tonight. Bye.”

                I sit down at the table with my glass of orange juice. I could tell it was about Eli, but I wanted to know every detail. I looked at my dad and waited for him to explain the phone call. But he didn’t even look me in the eye. I guess I have to ask him, first.

“What was that all about?” I wait for my dad to respond. 

“We’ll talk about it…after school. I just don’t want you to worry while you should be focusing on school.” I look at him in awe. I will think about Eli whether they tell me anything or not. I can’t concentrate on school anyway. Why won’t he tell me? But I do not say this out loud because I know that I will not change his mind. Once my father makes up his mind, it is very hard to persuade him otherwise.

                “Fine.” I say instead. I get up from the table and go upstairs. I have lost my appetite.

                Later at school that day, I couldn’t get my mind off the phone call. I needed to know what was going on. I just cannot seem to function properly, living each day with a horrible feeling in the pit of my stomach. Where is he? Is he still alive? If he is, then how is he being treated? Every day I ask myself these questions and pray for an answer. But all I can do is ask because nobody seems to have an answer, even the police.

                “Tonight you’ll need your trigonometry book for the homework and your notes on World War II for the quiz tomorrow in world history.” The bell has just dismissed us for the day. I am at my locker like usual, grabbing things from my locker as María tells me what I need. I have been so worried about the phone call earlier this morning that I paid attention even less than usual. 

                “Okay. Let’s go.” I close my locker, put the lock on. María and I walk towards the front of the school to the doors that will lead us to the buses outside. I decide to tell her about the phone call.

                “My dad got a call this morning. From the police. My dad said something about the police being right about the kidnapper’s motives. I guess they are coming over tonight to discuss things. He wouldn’t tell me exactly what it was about, though. He said that he would tell me after school because he didn’t want me to worry.” I start crying. María tries to comfort me, but I can’t stop.

                “I am so scared, María. I worry every day that he is alive and there isn’t anything that I can do to be sure he is okay. Where do I go from here?” I look over at my friend and I notice tears in the corners of her eyes. In all the years that I have known her, she has only ever really cried in front of me three times.

The first was when her father died five years ago when we were 12. He was a worker at a local construction site. On his way home from work that night, a drunk driver hit his car. Her father attempted to stop the vehicle, but he hit an electric pole before he had time to. María came over to my house the next morning, a Saturday, and told me what happened. She cried on my shoulder the entire day. I felt so bad for her.

                The second time was when Eli, María, and I were playing outside. We all decided to climb the maple tree in María’s back yard that was near the edge where her yard met the woods. María volunteered to climb up first. Eli and I looked watched as she ascended the giant tree. Higher and higher she went. At one point, her foot slipped on a branch and she nearly fell. She looked down at us, worriedly, but we assured her that everything was okay; we told her to keep climbing. Once she climbed as far as any kid would dare to go, she started climbing back down.

On the very same branch she slipped on going up, María’s foot slipped and she started to fall. As her body hit the ground, hands first, I could hear the bone in her am snap and see it protruding from her olive skin. That day, both of our families waited anxiously in the waiting room. Finally, the doctor came out and informed María’s parents that she had a double compound fracture of her radius and ulna in her left arm.

The only picture I had in my mind for the next few days was of María, falling out of the tree, her bone breaking and protruding from her skin; balling her eyes out as Eli rushed to her mother and me following behind slowly, carrying María in my arms. Maria had a cast on her arm for about 2 months, during which we avoided her back yard most of the time and stopped climbing trees altogether.

The third time that I saw her cry was the day Eli was taken. That night that Eli was kidnaped, I called her. As soon as she answered, I told her. “María, Eli…he’s gone. He was kidnapped today.” Maria cares about Eli as much as if he were her own brother, considering the fact that she in an only child. She has no siblings. So that night, we both cried each other to sleep.

The following week, when I didn’t show up for school, my teachers began to worry. I was always an intelligent, straight-A student, ad all of a sudden things changed. When I did start showing up for school again, I could barely even concentrate, I was barely scraping by in my classes. Suddenly homework and grades seemed the least of my worries when I did not even know if my little brother was still alive.

Even my teachers seemed concerned about my performance at school. They would pull me aside after class and ask me how I was doing. For a few seconds, I would stare and them, wanting to scream “How do you think I am doing?” but I realized that they were sincere and I told them how I truthfully how I felt.

“Not so good. I miss him terribly. I can’t sleep. I can’t even think straight.” They would pat me on the back and tell me that they understood what I was going through, but for some reason I had a hard time believing that they truly did understand.

I feel María sniffle next to me and I am pulled back to reality. She is drying her tears and puts her arm around me. She hugs me tightly.

“I’ll call you tonight. Let me know how everything does, okay?” I nod and we part ways, board our buses. For the next 25 minutes, I dream about Eli and me, building sandcastles at the beach. My mother and father are relaxing in the sun. Eli tells me that he is going into the water for a minute. I continue working on our sandcastle. Someone pats me on the shoulder…

“Hannah?” I wake up and some kid is patting me on the shoulder. “It’s your stop.” I look out the window and sure enough it is my stop. A police car is parked in the driveway, along with my father’s car. I grab my backpack and lunch box and head and walk towards the front of the bus, mumbling a “Thank you” in the direction of the boy who woke me up.

I open the door and go inside the house. I’m afraid to hear what they have to say, even though I have been anxious all day. I enter the living room where my father and mother sit together on the couch across from Mitch Hoff, Deputy of the Philadelphia police department.  I met him the next day after Eli was kidnapped. He had come to our house personally, assuring us that he would find him, no matter what it entailed. He told us that he had children himself, and couldn’t imagine what it would be like to have one taken from him.

He is dressed the same, in his police uniform. But he looks older, sadder. His brow is wrinkled like many years of working as Deputy has worn him out.

I sit on the couch next to my parents. Mr. Hoff looks at my parents like he is pleading them to tell me the news, as if he doesn’t have the strength to tell me himself. I try to keep myself composed and wait patiently. My dad speaks first.

“Mr. Hoff called me this morning on behalf of Eli. Do you remember the other night during dinner, when I said that the kind of people like the ones who kidnapped Eli always have a motive? And that the police think their motive was money? Well this morning, when Mr. Hoff arrived at work, the postman delivered a letter. It was from the kidnappers. They want ransom… for Eli. 100,000 dollars to be exact. And they want it from me by Friday evening at 5. It is all included in the letter.” I think about this. Today is Monday.

My father hands me the letter. My shaking hands grasp the piece of paper and I read it to myself.

100,000 dollars by Friday, 5:00, or he’s dead. Mr. Oliver should bring the money, alone, to the Philadelphia Museum. Bring the money in a black duffle bag and place it on the steps next to the Rocky Statue outside the museum. Follow everything we say if you want to see him alive.

Yours truly

Once I finish reading the letter, I hand it back to my father. A million questions surf through my mind but I ask the pertinent one. “So are you going to give them the money?”

“That’s what we were just discussing, before you came in honey. Mr. Hoff has had lots of experience and he has advised that the best thing to do is let them take care of it and not deliver the money.”

Before I have time to respond, the deputy speaks. “Who’s to say that once they get what they want, they won’t kill him anyway. You shouldn’t trust what a criminal says. And we can’t even be sure that he is still alive. My advice to you is that you continue to let us do our job. We will find your brother. You can trust.

“Trust you? Did you know that each day approximately 258,115 children are kidnapped daily in the United States? Did you know that 40% of the children kidnapped are killed? Or that 75% of the victims are murdered within 3 hours of being kidnapped? Well I do. And every time that I think about my brother, I think of these numbers. I know that you care. And I know that you really are doing all that you can. But please, try harder. He’s out there and I do believe that he is still alive. At least I have hope, even if you guys do not.”

CHAPTER 4

Eli

                Ever since that strange moment when he brought me lunch, I knew there was something different about him. The following day, he spoke to me for the first time.

                “What’s your name?” He asked me. I was so shocked, that I could barely even pronounce the words.

                “Eli. Eli Oliver.” I already knew his, so I didn’t ask. However, I do not think that he realized this because he told me his name anyway.

                “I’m Flash.” He looks older for his age. He has blonde hair and I notice there is scar which extends from his temple to his cheek. He has the same sad look on his face that I saw the day before, when he was called upstairs. “Are you comfortable?” I am shocked at this, too. He is asking me if I am comfortable, with chains around my ankles and my stomach constantly demanding to be fed substantial food.

“No,” I blatantly reply. Flash nods and looks down at the floor. His brother Neo calls his from upstairs and I know that our conversation is over.

“Flash. You got to come see this, man.”

He stands there for a few seconds like he is deciding what to do. And then he tells me “See you tomorrow, Eli,” and goes upstairs.

The next day, Flash brings me breakfast like usual. But he sits down after setting down the tray and we talk. I find out that he is 19 and his brother is 23. Neo and he were orphans until Grit took them both in.

“He took care of us. Gave us food to eat. A bed to sleep in. When we got old enough to realize the kind of person he was, a criminal, we knew we had to leave. One night, Neo and I decided that the right thing to do was to turn him in to the police. Around midnight, when he was asleep, we got dressed and were on our way out the door. Grit woke up and found out what we were up to. He told us that if we went to the police he would kill us. And besides, they wouldn’t believe anything we said because we now had criminal records of our own. Neo told him that he was a thief, a murderer. Grit came after him with a knife. I tried to save him and Grit gave me this.” Flash points to the pink scar on the right side of his face.

I nod, starting to understand the kind or person they have to deal with. They want to leave so badly, but at the same time scared to death knowing what he will do to them if they try to.

“So that’s why you and your brother work with him. I knew there must be some reason. You two are… different than Grit.” I smile, trying to cheer him up. 

“No, we are not much better than him. All of the horrible things we have helped him do. I still have nightmares. I still wish that when I was younger, I knew the things that I know now.” Just then Flash and I hear the car coming up the gravel driveway. Fear suddenly enters him and I know that we are done talking for today. Quickly, he grabs the tray and starts toward the basement stairs. “See you later, Eli.”

“See you later, Flash.” Finally, I see a small trace of what I perceive as a smile, appear on his face. Then, he turns around and leaves.

Later on that day, Flash brings me lunch, but doesn’t look as relaxed as he had earlier, when we were alone in the house. “Everything okay?” I ask him. I want to know if our talks have ended for good. Just when I was finding a way to keep my mind off of Hannah and my parents. Thinking about them only generates an empty feeling in the pit of my stomach and it hurts too much.

“Yeah. I’m just worried that Grit will find out. From now on, if we want to continue talking, we will have to wait until he has left. I am not worried about Neo. I know he won’t tell. Maybe soon I will bring him down here, too.”

I nod, trying to look happy. But Grit scares me and I know that he scares Flash, too. The last thing I want is Flash and his brother getting hurt because of me.  But at the same time, I do not want our talks to end. They are the only thing that keeps me going, that gives me hope.

“Well, I better go. Tomorrow, Grit will be out for about an hour and then we can talk. See you then, Eli.” Flash smiles at me and then he goes upstairs.

The next day, once Grit pulls out of the driveway and I can no longer hear crunch of gravel, Flash brings me lunch. I am surprised when I see Neo following behind. Flash sits down in his usual spot once he places the tray with my soup on the floor beside me. Neo, however, stands back against the furnace. I can tell that he is not very comfortable with this and Flash does too.

“It’s okay, Neo. Just relax. Grit isn’t here so we are okay.” Now that Flash has attempted to comfort him, Neo relaxes a little and he sits down beside his brother. Today, I learn how they became orphans.

They had lived in New Jersey most of their life with their parents. However, one day, their parents hired a baby sitter and they went out to dinner. On their way back home, they took the subway. Little did they know that they would never return home from dinner, that the baby sitter would wait all night for their return.

According to the police, there had been a man who placed a bomb on the subway intending to kill a specific passenger. That man was the deputy of the Philadelphia police force Gabriel Hoff, Mitch Hoff’s father. When the police found out about the bomb on the subway, it was too late. 15 out of the 17 people who were riding on the subway that night died from the explosion. The Deputy of Police along with Flash and Neo’s parents. The two survivors were rushed to the emergency room. One of them died in the hospital that following morning.

“We never saw them again” Flash said to no one in particular. “The baby sitter stayed with us that night. She called the police, and when she found out what had happened, she told us. Neo was only 15 at the time; I was 11… just like you.”

“We were in foster care for a few weeks. We moved from house to house. No one seemed willing to put up with a couple of teenage boys. And then, one of our great aunts who barely even knew decided to take us in. We had only met her a handful of times, when our family got together for the holidays.” This is said by Neo. I look up at him, surprised to find him engaging in the conversation. I had not expected this. I wait for him to continue without saying a word for fear that he will not finish. He takes a few breaths and then continues.

“She barely even paid attention to us once we got there. I guess she just wanted people to think highly of her for taking us in. We spent a total of 3 whole months there. By the end of that summer, we had run away. We just couldn’t take it anymore.”

“In front of others, she would play the hero. A single mother raising not only her own kids, but Flash and I as well. She would tell people that we were such good kids, she felt as if we had always been her own. But when there was no one to put up a front for, she treated us like

servants. We cleaned up the house, cleaned up the yard. Of course her own kids were never asked to do the things that we did. So my brother and I ran away and never looked back. We lived here and there, eating out of garbage cans and sleeping in cardboard boxes.”

“Then we met Grit. For the first few months, we really thought that we could look up to him as a father. We trusted him and then everything changed. We realized the man Grit really was. He takes in orphaned children and treats them like his own kids. Then, when they gain his trust, he uses them to help with his crimes.”

“That’s what he did to you. And lady, too right?” Neo shakes his head yes.

I think about how young Lady seemed, that day in the basement. She can’t be much older than Hannah. And yet she continues to help Grit. She isn’t like Neo and Flash. She feels no regret, no pang of guilt for the crimes which she has committed.

“Grit is a thief. A murderer. But now we know what he would do if we ever decided to go to the police again. He would kill us without a hint of remorse. We are so sorry for taking you from your home, Eli. We understand if you never forgive us for it and we deserve whatever punishment comes our way. I just wish my brother and I were stronger. To expose Grit for what he truly is. Maybe someday he’ll be punished for all that he has done.” A single tear falls down Flash cheek.

I suddenly feel the need to assure Neo and Flash that I forgive them for what they did. If my sister ever taught me anything, it is that we should forgive others for their mistakes. That doesn’t mean that what they did was right, it just means that they are forgiven for their mistakes. We are human, after all, and we all make our own mistakes.

We have all had our share of mistakes and I believe that they are truly sorry for their. “It is okay. I forgive you both and maybe someday you guys will be able to forgive Grit, too.”

For the next few days after they told me that they were sorry, Neo comes down with Flash and we talk. About everything and anything. Yesterday, I learned a lot from the about Grit. Neo told me that Grit doesn’t just kidnap people for ransom. In fact, I am the first person he has ever kidnaped. He has a whole treasure trove of ices I never knew about. For example, I learned that Grit is Philly’s biggest loan shark, meaning he offers loans to criminals illegally. If they do not pay him back, he uses blackmail, threats, and occasionally violence. One time, a drug dealer from Chester, the city in Pennsylvania with the most crime. Needless to say, the drug dealer ended up paying him back-with his life.

Another thing I discovered is that neither Neo nor Flash knows his Grit’s real name. Or Lady’s, for that matter. They only know them by their nicknames.

                “They have never mentioned them, after all these years,” Flash told me yesterday. “My real name is Todd and my brother’s is Trevor.”

                “Todd. Trevor.” I say the names out loud. They are fitting. Suddenly, all three of us turn our heads to the window. The sound of a car coming up the driveway startles us.

Neo and Flash look at each other, knowing that this is their cue to leave. I wish they could stay and we could keep talking but I do not dare ask them to.

                “We have to go Eli. See you tomorrow.” Neo and Flash disappear upstairs.

                The next day when they come down, Flash is not holding the tray with my soup as usual. Even though it is probably the lowest quality soup you can ever find, I do not get much to eat

and therefore look forward to it. My stomach screams at me as they walk closer. What’s going on? I think to myself.

                Flash has a huge smile from ear to ear. He leans down next to me. Even though Grit is long gone and we are the only three in the house, he whispers the question into my ear, as if just saying it aloud is a dangerous thing to do.

                “How would you like to… come upstairs, for a little bit?” Flash looks at Neo then back to me. These two never fail to amaze me. Again I am unexpected. I smile at them and they know to take this as a yes. Out of nowhere, Neo takes a key and unlocks the chains around my ankles. I stand up.

At first, my legs are weak and they give out. But after a few seconds I stand steady on my feet. I go to the window, now able to see fully what is out there.  I pull back the shades. The light blinds me, but I squint until my eyes adjust to the bright light. I see the barn across the street. In front of the house, I see a small yard, no larger than the tiny basement that I am in.

                “Ahem.” I hear Neo clear his throat behind me and realized that I have been standing here, looking out this window, for quite a long time. But I needed to see first. I have been down here for who knows how long. I needed to see what was out that window. Feeling at peace for knowing, I follow Neo and Flash. Many questions surf through my mind, like how long have I been here, exactly? What does the house look like? Will I get to eat lunch eventually? Where did they get that key? I decide to go with the last one.

                I turn to Neo and ask him. “Where did you get the key Neo?”

                “I found it. Grit told me to go get something for him in one of the drawers in the kitchen. I knew immediately what the key was for when I saw it. When I knew that Flash and I were alone and it was safe, I told him about the key. We decided that the first chance we got, we would let you out. Before Grit gets home we’ll just… take you back down and put the key back in the drawer. Grit will never even notice it was missing.”

                When Neo says the words “take you back down” I cringe. I do appreciate what they are doing, but how could I go back to the dark, stuffy basement with chains around my ankles and nothing but the sound of my own breath keeping my company?

                Flash senses the tension in my body and tries apologizing. I notice that he is on the verge of crying. “I am sorry Eli.”

                The next hour or so only feels like a few minutes. I have my first real meal in months. They let me pick anything from the kitchen that I want. I asked them how they were going to explain that food was missing if Grit were to find out.

                Flash looked concerned, like he hadn’t thought this though. Neo, on the other hand, had thought of this already. He was always prepared.

“Well, we eat here every day, so if he notices that a lot of food is missing just tell him that we ate it when he was gone. He leaves here around eleven in the morning and comes back at one in the afternoon. That gives us two hours, so go ahead and eat whatever you want.”

                After I chug nearly an entire quart of milk and eat two cheese sandwiches, I am stuffed. With a full belly and feeling very tired, I tell Neo and Flash about my family.

                “My mother is pregnant. With a boy. We already have a name picked out. Jacob. He is due to be born around April 22nd, only four months away, but that is not set in stone. My sister, Hannah, is 17. She is my best friend.”

Then I proceeded to tell them about my father. As I talk about him, I notice that the two of them exchange glances.

“My father is a lawyer for the biggest firm in Philadelphia.” This, of course, they already knew.

The whole reason that they kidnapped me, I discover, is that Grit wanted ransom from him. When they tell me this, I feel a knot in the pit of my stomach. Grit wants money from my father? I think about this for a few moments. Dead silence fills the kitchen and no one says a word. This was the first time that I had heard anything about ransom. Grit is going to the Philadelphia museum tomorrow night to get the money from my father. He sent a letter explaining everything. He also told my father that he would let me go.

We talk for a long time. But for exactly how long, I am not sure.

I must have fallen asleep because I wake up I am back inside the basement; the chains are around my ankles and I am alone again. But in the pocket of my faded blue jacket there are two chocolate chip cookies.

CHAPTER 5

Flash

                I wish Neo and I knew what we were getting into, I think to myself. Grit scares me. I know my brother will not admit it, but I think that he is scared too. Each day, I feel the anger inside me grow bigger, fiercer. Not even the smallest trace of the father figure I saw as a young child remains. 

All that remains is hate.  I hate him for taking advantage of my brother and I. For using us for his illegal activities when we were just children. For taking advantage of us because we were young and naïve. For the scar on my face that I have to live with every day. For kidnapping Eli and taking him away from his family.

                Neo and I have decided that when Grit leaves around 11:00 A.M., we will let Eli out of the basement. Give him some fresh air. Let him see the sun. Yesterday, when Neo took the chains off of is feet, the first thing he did was go to that little window with the curtains. At first, I wondered why he did this. But then I realized that he hadn’t seen the sun in months. It nearly blinded him, but he waited until the light adjusted. He was determined to see. He had a look of satisfaction on is face when he put the curtains back in place and turned around. Then Neo and I led him upstairs.

We let him have whatever he wanted to eat from the kitchen. We already worked it out so that if Grit notices anything missing, we will simply tell him that we ate it.

                Once Eli’s stomach was satisfied, we showed him around. The bathroom, the bedrooms. Then we sat in the living room and talked for a while. He got up to use the bathroom five times. Being in the basement, Grit gives him a little bucket where he goes to the bathroom. Then he makes either Neo or I take it out back in the woods and empty it.

                Each day now I find myself eager to wake up in the morning. Eager for Grit to leave. Eager for Neo and I to go downstairs and see Eli. Eager to bring him up here, where he is comfortable. I am thinking about asking Grit to let him stay in the extra bedrooms upstairs. But of course that is where it will stay, me thinking about it.

…

                I remember the day that Grit told Neo and I that he was going to kidnap Eli. I cringe just thinking about how much time he spent perfecting the plan. It took him weeks. He came home one day, less angry as usual.

                “I have a job for us. We are going to kidnap Charlie Oliver’s son. Lady scouted him out for us. Look who is on the front page of the paper this morning,” Grit said. He laid the local newspaper on the table in front of my brother and I. We look at the front page’s headline, both scared and anxious to know what Grit is talking about.

Philly’s number one lawyer fights for justice. Eleanor Hemp serves 25 to 30 in sate penitentiary for poisoning husband, Bud Hemp

Unsure how this has anything to do with kidnapping a child, I look at Grit questioningly. Whatever anger was gone several seconds ago has returned and he looks at me like I am worthless

“Don’t look at me like that. Keep reading the thing you moron!”

As I scan the article, I realized that Charlie Oliver is a lawyer for Stanford and Sons. I have heard of this firm a handful of times. I have also heard of Charlie Oliver. Some say he’s the best lawyer in Philadelphia behind the late Stanford, of course, who founded the firm many years ago. Others say he’s the best in all of Pennsylvania.  What I read next, though, made me realize what Grit was after.

The article said that Charlie Oliver makes roughly $25,000, monthly. I remember how reading this sent a cold shiver down my back. I knew he was serious. He never jokes around about a job. Not caring what Grit was going to do to my brother next, Neo suddenly felt the urge to speak his mind.

“This is going too far, Grit. I don’t think that you should go through with this. And Flash and I certainly aren’t going to get involved this time. No.”

Neo stared at Grit with a loath look on his face, unwilling to stand down. I was afraid for my brother. Had he learned nothing throughout the years? Did he not know he was putting his life, and mine as well, in jeopardy by speaking out against Grit?

But Grit, of course, did not think Neo had learned enough. Those few seconds where Grit and Neo stared at each other was one of the scariest moments of my life, along with the day my parents died the day Grit gave me the scar on my face.

During that time, I worried for my brother’s life more than ever. I held my breath. The only sound was of my heart pounding. And then Grit did something unexpected.

It took my eyes a few seconds to adjust, but then I realized what he was holding in his hand. Grit held a gun pointed towards Neo.

I stood up as quickly as my body was capable. “No!” I could not hold back anymore. I screamed at the top of my lungs. Neo motioned for me to sit down, for me to relax like everything was going to be okay. I sat down slowly, feeling dizzy. But inside, I was going crazy. I could tell that everything was not going to be okay. Grit was pointing a gun at my brother.

“Listen to your big brother, Flash. If you know what’s best for you. Because he sure as hell doesn’t know what is best for you. If he cared, we wouldn’t be where we are now.”

With the threat of tears and my dizzy, convulsing body, I am unable to find the courage to speak. But Neo does.

“Leave my brother out of this Grit. All that I am trying to tell you is that you know you would never get away with… kidnapping. Slowly, Grit lowers the gun. But that look remains on his face.

“You know what? You are right. By myself, I would never get away with it. I guess I should thank my lucky stars that I have you two to help me. If you don’t help me, not only will you not get a dime from the ransom, but I’ll kill you both without any remorse!”

He takes the newspaper, tucks it under his arm. He stuffs the gun in the waistband of his pants, like people do in movies. Except this is not a movie. This is reality. I am so scared, that even after Grit gets into his car and leaves, I do not say a word. And Neo does not take his eyes away from the door. 

For the rest of the day and into the night, I picture Grit holding pointing that gun towards Neo. When Grit comes back later that night, he leaves us alone.

                It is 8:00 A.M. My alarm clack goes off to wake me up but I am already awake. Mechanically, I get up, get dressed, and grab a bite to eat before we head to the house where Eli is being kept. Grit has several houses, just in Philadelphia alone, all under his name. The first is the one used for keeping victims or drugs out of sight, in this case keeping Eli hostage. The second is where Lady stays. Because of the fact that she is his scout, she goes to school and pretends to lead a normal life so she won’t look suspicious. She catches the bus there, eats there, and sleeps there. The third is where Grit, Neo, and I stay. Although I wish my brother and I had our own so we wouldn’t have to deal with Grit so much.

Grit is especially angry today. Some guy is late paying him back. He says that when someone borrows money from him, they better know what they are getting themselves into.

Right now, he is in the living room talking on the phone.

“… and I guess I have no other choice. I am going to come up there on Thursday. Alone. Yes I am going to...”

I walk into the kitchen. Neo is sitting at the table. He smiles at me when I come in and sit down beside him. “Hey, Neo. I was thinking that today when we bring Eli up, we could--“

Grit walks into the room that second and I stop mid-way through my sentence. He puts the phone on the hook. If he finds out what we have been doing, we are done for. And so is Eli. So I change the subject.

“Hey Grit, do you know it whether or not the police gave the letter to Charlie Oliver yet?”

“How should I know? All I care about is that this kid’s daddy brings me the money on Friday. And If he doesn’t, then his son will be dead by Saturday morning.”

Neo and I exchange looks. I know that we are both thinking the same thing. We would rather give our own lives than have to see the looks on his family’s face if they were to find out that their son was killed.

Suddenly, a plan starts to form in my head. We couldn’t… could we? I try my best to suppress the idea, but it is being stubborn and will not leave.

CHAPTER 6

HANNAH

                Today marks four months since Eli was taken. It is Tuesday. In the letter given to us from the kidnappers, they want it this Friday. I think back to yesterday when Mitch Hoff was sitting in our living room, advising my parents not to give the ransom money. That gives me three days to convince my parents otherwise. True that I do not know how criminals think, but if the letter says “or he’s dead,” then that is a chance we cannot take.

                My mother enters the kitchen. I am surprised to see that she is wearing something other than her pajamas. She’s dressed like… she is going to leave the house. She hasn’t left much at all since Eli was kidnapped. On the rare occasion that she does, it is for a checkup at the hospital. She is now 7 months pregnant.

                “Going somewhere, mom?” I ask her curiously.

                She attempts a smile and then replies, “Just to the grocery store. I want to make a nice dinner tonight. I was thinking spaghetti with homemade tomato sauce. Some garlic bread. Maybe even make a salad, too.”

                Homemade tomato sauce? Garlic bread? I can’t believe my ears. For the past four months, my mother has not spent more than 30 minutes at a time in the kitchen, preparing meals. But then I stop myself in thinking this way. I am happy for her. I have not seen a trace of happiness on her face in a long time. It makes me a little happier just seeing my mother this way.

                “Sounds great. I can’t wait mom.” I eat my breakfast and go to catch the bus for school.

…

Around 12:30, lunchtime, a girl walks up to the table where I am eating. She introduces herself as Lydia Smiles, says that this is her first year in the school district. Like me, she is a junior in high school.

I try my best to remember anything I can about her, but fail to remember much. I have seen her walking the halls in between classes. I know that she is in my English and History class. But that is all.

She sits down beside me and begins to talk to me like we have been best friends forever, even though I barely know her.   

                “Hi, how are you? I was just sitting over there with my friends…” She points to a table with 7 to 10 girls eating their lunches and giggling at each other.

                “I was wondering how things were going with your brother? I heard about the… kidnapping on the local news a couple of weeks ago. They were discussing the progress. I wanted to hear from you first- hand how things are really going.”

She looks at me, like she is truly concerned about my brother, even though she doesn’t know what his name is. Despite this, I try to reply with the same friendliness she is showing me.

“They still haven’t found him. The search is going, alright. I guess. The police do know what the kidnappers are after, though. They know what their motives are. Apparently, they want money. It is just your typical kidnapping scenario. Thanks for… um…. asking.”

                “Oh you are so very welcome Hannah. And I truly am sorry for you. I have a younger brother just like you. He’s 13. How old is your brother?”

                “He is eleven. I know it seems like a big difference in age, but we are practically best friends. I love him so much. And I miss him terribly.” I fight back the tears. Now is not the time to cry, I try to tell myself. But when you hurt this much, the words mean nothing. They begin to fall down my cheek. I think that Lydia notices, because she doesn’t get up to go back to the table where her friends are. But she doesn’t make me feel uncomfortable, either. In fact, she is not making me uncomfortable at all. It must be how sincere she is. I am shocked by the fact that she could feel such sympathy. And with a stranger!

                “Would you mind if I sit with you today?” Lydia smiles at me genuinely.

                “Um… no. Of course not.” I smile back at her.

                “Great! Then I’ll go get my lunch. Be right back.” Lydia walks over to the lunch table where her friends are. She says something to them and they look around at each other, stupefied. She grabs her lunch box and come back over, sits beside me. She has the biggest smile on her face, like she just won half a million dollars in the lottery.

                For the next twenty five minutes of lunch, I learn a lot about Lydia. And she learns a lot about me too.

                “Is he your only sibling?”

                “No, my mother is pregnant with another boy,” I reply.

                “That’s great. Do you and your family have any names picked out?”

At one point, I take out a container from my lunch box. Lydia watches as I pull off the top and begin to eat my sandwich.

“That looks delicious. What is it?” Lydia asks me.  

“It is a veggie sandwich. With tomatoes, lettuce, cheese, avocado, hummus. I am a vegetarian.”

She smiles from ear to ear. “Wow. That is so cool! How long have you been a vegetarian?”

We spend the rest of the period talking, barely touching our packed lunches. At the end of the day, I head to my locker. I am excited to tell María about Lydia, but I remember that she stayed home sick today. After I get what I need, since today was the first day I paid attention during all my classes, I head for the bus. I am about to step onto the bus, but I hear someone calling my name. I turn around and see Lydia, running up to me. In her hand is two folded pieces of paper. She stops in front of me, catches her breath, and smiles.

                “I was afraid I’d missed you. You left this at the table during lunch today. And on the other piece of paper is my phone number. ” She holds out the folded pieces of paper for me to take. I try to think of what the one I left could be, but come up with nothing. I take it from her and thank her kindly.

                “Thanks, Lydia. See you at lunch tomorrow?” Her face lights up and she nods. “Okay. I have to go. Bye.” She wave at me while I step onto the bus. I take a seat in the back, set my stuff down beside me. I unfold the pieces of paper that Lydia handed me.

                I open the first piece and see Lydia’s phone number. Then I open the second piece. My eyes scan the letters on the paper, wondering if she read whatever it is. And then I realized that what I left at the lunch table was the ransom letter from the kidnappers.

                That evening, my mother makes the best spaghetti I ever tasted. For the first time in a long time, I eat my entire meal without losing my appetite. My mother even eats all of hers.

                “It is four months today.” My mother is looking down at her plate, but she is addressing this statement towards my father and I.

                My father pushes his plate away, towards the center of the table. He lets out a long sigh. I know that he was hoping we could avoid talking about Eli, the kidnappers, or the police for just one meal. But obviously we cannot help ourselves- he is a part of this family, too.

                “Can’t we just go thorough one meal without bringing that stuff up Elizabeth?”

                “You mean bringing up Eli, our son? I suppose I could, that is if I didn’t love him and care about his as much as I did.” My mother gets up from the table. She walks upstairs. I hear a door close and nothing more. She must be in Eli’s room, I think to myself.

                I look at my father. I love him and all, but sometimes I think that he has his priorities all messed up. It is like he cares more about money and his job than he does about is family. Strip all of those materialistic things away and what is left? Us. All we have is each other. I wish that he could realize this. He would understand mom much better if he did. But I doubt there are many people out there as thick and stubborn as my dad.

                I am the next person to leave the table. I take my plate to the sink, head upstairs. I am about to enter my room, but I turn around and head into Eli’s instead. I look around for my mother.  She is standing in front of Eli’s dresser, holding a picture. As I walk closer to her, I realize that she is crying silently. Tears stream down her face.

                I walk up and wrap my arms around her. As I do this, she begins to cry even harder.

                “Oh Hannah.” My mother hugs me tightly. After a minute or two of this she composes herself, wipes the tears away.

                “Mom, I know that you and dad have already discussed it and made up your mind. But how can you trust those criminals, that they won’t kill Eli Friday if dad doesn’t show up with the ransom. We can’t take that risk. Please mom.”

                My mother looks at me, surprised.

                “You… think that I agreed with your father and Mitch about that? I fought with your father all that day about it. I want him to take the money. But you know how he is. He just will not hear anything else about it. He said that those criminals do not deserve a dime from him.”

                I sit there silently, taking all of this in. Here I was, thinking the entire time that my mother did not want my father to give the money for Eli. But I was wrong.

                “I’m sorry mom. All of this time I thought that you…”

                “It is okay Hannah. I have not said one word about it since your father and I talked yesterday. I am trying not to think about it at all because it upsets me so. Your father seems set on the idea that they are bluffing, that they really have no intention of killing Eli.” She sniffles a bit, then continues.

                “He said that if they want the money as much as they let on, then they wouldn’t just kill him.”

                I am suddenly filled with resentment. How could my father act this way?

“We have to convince him. Or it will be too late.” I start to cry now. This time, my mother is the one to comfort. She wraps her arms around me and I cry into her fluffy pink robe.

Later on when I call María, I tell her about Lydia. At first, she doesn’t have the slightest clue as to who I am talking about. But as I continue, María remembers her.

“Yeah I know her. Lydia Smiles. She has Trig the same period that I do. She’s really friendly, but she doesn’t talk much. To anybody.”

“Anyway, I left the ransom letter at the lunch table. She brought it to me as I was getting on the bus at the end of the day. I wonder if she read it.”

María stays quiet on the other end for a while. “Why don’t you just ask her if she read it? I’m sure she will tell you if you did or not.”

Once María and I finish talking and hang up, I get Lydia’s number from my backpack. I run my fingers over the ink letters. Her hand writing is neat, unique. The letters are slanted slightly to the right. I pick the phone back up, dial the number. It takes me another five tries before I finally press ‘Dial.’

The phone rings a few times before Lydia answers.

“Hello?”

“Hi, Lydia. It’s Hannah. How are you?”

                I can picture her smiling on the other end. “I am great. How about you? Anything new come out about your brother?”

                “No, nothing. But I guess I am doing okay.”

                We talk for a while, about random things. After a few seconds of silence, I decide to bring it up.

                “I wanted to thank you for giving me your number… and the paper that I left in lunch today.”

                “Oh, you’re welcome Hannah. That’s what friends are for.”

                That’s what friends are for, huh? Well then why don’t I just come out and say it. I am about to ask, when Lydia beats me to it.

                “I happened to read what was on it. I hope you don’t mind. I just want to say that I am here for you, if you need me. And I am sorry about your brother. If there is every anyway that I can help, just let me know and I will gladly.”

                “Thanks, Lydia. I’ll remember that. We’ll I better go finish my homework and get to bed. See you tomorrow.”

                “I’ll see you tomorrow, Hannah.” I am about to press the button to end the call, and I hear Lydia say something to me. “You know, you could always go out and try to look for your brother? Maybe you could find some clues to help the police with the search. I know how much you care for him.”

                “Ha ha. Yeah.” I laugh, shrugging it off like nothing. “Bye Lydia. See you tomorrow.”  I hang up the phone. I may have sounded on the phone like the idea is dismissed from my mind, but I think about the idea while I do my homework, and continue to think about it through the night.

CHAPTER 7

ELI

                Today I wake up early, before the sun has even risen in the sky. I know this because usually there are little rays of sun penetrating the curtains. But today there isn’t and the room is lit only by the dim lightbulb that is shining at the top of the stairs.

                I pull the second cookie from my pocket. I take out the biggest chocolate chip, set it aside as my last bite, and eat the rest of the cookie. This makes me think about Hannah.

                Whenever my mother would make a fresh batch of cookies, Hannah and I would always take out the biggest chocolate chip and set it aside. This would be our last bite. My mother would laugh at us, shake her head. But that never changed how we ate the cookies.

                “We are saving the best part for last. Delaying gratification.” This is what Hannah would say to them. I could never understand she meant by “Delaying gratification.” But now, sitting here in the dark basement, I realize what that means.

                I finish the cookie and eat the chocolate chip last. Then I fall back asleep.

                At eleven o’clock, I wake up when I hear the familiar sound of a car pulling out of a driveway. Grit. I wait patiently for Neo and Flash.

                Several minutes later, Neo come down with the key, unlocks the chains. I look behind him for Flash but he is nowhere to be seen.

                “Flash is upstairs. He, I mean we, want to… tell you something.” I notice the strain in his voice, but I do not ask questions. I follow Neo upstairs curiously. He leads me to the living room where Flash is sitting on the couch. I am so nervous that my entire body is shaking.

                He looks up when Neo and I sit down on the couch. I try to stay calm.

“What’s going on?” I ask them both.

We sit there in silence for a few seconds. I hear the hum of a washer and dryer. A dog barking far off in the distance.

                “The other day I had this idea. I talked to Neo. We are going to help you escape. On Thursday. Grit will be out of town on a job.”

                “You guys are going to let me go?” I can’t believe what I am hearing. They are going to help me escape. “I can’t believe it.”

                “But we have to remember something, guys. If Grit gets even a little bit suspicious, then the plan is off. We have to be extremely cautious. Today is Tuesday. That means that tomorrow we can’t let you come up. Just to play it safe. Okay?” Neo looks at Flash and I to make sure we understand fully what it is that he is telling us.
 

                I am so excited, I can’t even think straight. My head is filled with the picture of Hannah and my parents. I imagine the look on their faces when I walk through that door. I know in reality it has only been a few months, but to me it feels like I have been here for years. I miss them so much; I can feel them enveloping me in a cloud of memories. I feel their presence in the room, Flash and Neo’s voices are distant.

                Suddenly a friendly hand reaches out and touches my shoulder.

                “Eli, are you listening to what we are saying? Do you understand?” Flash looks into my eyes for an answer, that I understand what all of this means.

                I nod my head that yes I do understand and Flash hugs me. Neo comes over to me and hugs me too. Any shaking that my nervousness caused has dissipated and now I am shaking with excitement.

                        “Well, why don’t we get you something to eat Eli? You have to be hungry.” Neo goes into the kitchen and Flash and I follow behind him.

                I look at the clock that hangs from the wall above the kitchen table. 11:30.

                “What do you want today?” Neo looks inside the refrigerator, brings out some fruit. We all work together, peeling and slicing, to make a delicious fruit salad. While we make the salad, I thank them both for the two chocolate cookies that they put in the pocket of my jacket.

                “Don’t thank us, we don’t know anything about it,” Neo replies. He turns back to cutting up some strawberries.

                “Right” I say and smile to myself.

I set the table, Neo fills the bowls, and Flash brings them to the table. We all sit down and look at each other, smiling at our hard work.

                Suddenly, we turn to see Grit entering the living room. He is talking on the phone. He looks up to see Flash, Neo and I sitting at the table together.

                        “I’m going to have to… call you back. Bye.” Grit hangs up his cell phone, puts it in his pocket. He looks at the two brothers. He is astonished, like he never thought that they would do something like this. For a few seconds, he just stares at us. Then, he walks out of the kitchen.

The three of us look at each other, stupefied. We are all wondering the same thing. Why didn’t he do anything and where did he go? But our questions are answered when Grit walks back into the kitchen with a gun pointed right at me.

                “How long have you been letting him out? Were you planning on letting him go?”

                        Before I have time to react, Flash gets up from the chair and walks over to Grit. As he comes closer, I see beads of sweat on his forehead.

                “No Grit. Don’t do this. You need him and you know it.” Flash stares at the gun, waiting for Grit to put the gun down, for this to be over. “If you kill Eli now, then you will never get your money.”

                “You know, you are right. I can’t kill him.” A devilish smile appears on Grit’s face. He lowers the gun slowly.

All at once, I hear the sound of a shot being fired. For a few seconds I can’t hear or see anything. Then slowly, my senses return. I see Flash screaming and crying. Neo is sitting down next to me, holding my hand in his.

                I have lost feeling in my toes. My whole body is numb. I notice a puddle of red growing larger and larger beneath my lower body. Uh oh, I think.

                “Eli, no!” I turn to Flash. He leans down next to me, looks questioningly at his brother Neo. “Is he going to be alright Neo? Please tell me he is going to be alright!”

                “It is only the leg. If we get him to a hospital, we will be alright. But if we can’t get him to one…” Flash considers this statement, stares into space. Then he gets up and walks out of the kitchen, towards the living room.

The numbness is subsiding and I am beginning to feel excruciating pain in my right leg. In the next room over, I can hear voices rising higher and higher in a battle with each other. The two voices are Flash’s and Grit’s. Neo looks toward the living room, concerned for his brother.

                “I will be right back Eli.” Neo gets up and goes into the living room. “He has to go to the hospital Grit. He’ll die if he isn’t seen by a doctor!”

                        “It’s your fault Neo. You should have thought about that before. Everything that just happened was because of you. Remember that. The next time you want to pull an idiotic stunt like that, don’t involve anybody else. Not it is too late.”

The next few minutes happen in a blur. Flash and Neo carries me down to the basement. Grit is waving that gun around, telling them both what to do.

Neo wraps my leg with what appears to be white dish towels. Within seconds they are stained red. The pain in my right leg is excruciating. It reminds me of the time I broke my arm in baseball, except the pain travels up my body and pound in my ears, my head, my throat. I let it out in a piercing scream that makes Flash cringe.

Neo continues to wrap my leg. Grit eventually walks up the stairs to the door. He turns around for a second, like he is contemplating helping. But then he opens the door and leaves without a word.

Flash sits next to me while Neo works, holding my hand and crying silently.

I try to think of Hannah, my parents. I am afraid that I will never get the chance to see them. I will never be able to tell them one last time that I love them. Flash seems to understand that I am thinking this.

“It is going to be alright, Eli. I promise you that you will see your family again. I promise.”

CHAPTER 8

HANNAH

                “You want to do what?” I am talking to María. I have just told her my plan.

“It is Wednesday evening. Tomorrow is Thursday. Do you know what comes next? Friday. And I have tried everything in my power to convince my dad but he will not go to the museum with the money. I don’t have any other choice. I am going to go find my brother myself.”

“But you know that your parents would never let you go look for him, especially by yourself.”

“You’re right. They would never let me go alone, María. That is why you have to come with me.”

“Me? Are you nuts? Are you crazy?”

“That’s just it! I’m not crazy. I am thinking clearly. I have to do this. And if you are not coming with me, then I love you all the same. But I am still going to go find him. Nothing can stop me now. My mind is already made up.”

María says nothing for a few seconds. The line is quiet. On her end, I can hear the clank of dishes, the running of water. Her mother in the distance saying something is Spanish. I hear María sigh.

“You are the crazies person I have ever met, Hannah Marie Oliver.”

“Does that mean come with me to find Eli?”

“I didn’t say that” María replies.

“So you aren’t coming with me? I ask her.

“I didn’t day that either,” She answers.

Just like Eli and I, we know each other so well that it is as if we are reading each other’s mind. Sometimes all we need to do is look at each other. We understand the unspoken words so well. And I know that my best friend is going to come with me.

“Great. This means a lot to me, María. I just want you to know that.”

“I love you to Hannah.”

For the next half hour or so, we come up with a plan to go look for Eli. Tomorrow, after school, we will not get on the bus. We will head straight into town. Originally, I planned to go into every store and ask personally if anyone had seen Eli. But María had a better plan. We decided that I will email her a few pictures of my brother for her to make posters.

At school, she will print them out and we will ask to post them around the stores. With the remaining posters, we show people Eli’s picture and ask if they have seen him.

Then we will proceed to neighborhoods. Each day, we will go to a new neighborhood and knock on every door. María on one side of the street, I on the other.

“Do you really think that this is going to work? What if we knock right on the kidnapper’s door, you think they’re just going to say, “Yeah. I know exactly who you kids are looking for. He is tied up in my garage as we speak. I’ll go get him for you.” I don’t know how well this is going to work. I am still going to come with you, but there has to be something else that we can do… something more productive than knocking on everyone’s front door.”

 I think about this for a moment and realize that María is right. We might pass right by the kidnapper and never even know it. What then?

“I don’t know what else we can do, but we have to try something. I can’t live like this anymore. I need to have Eli in my life María. Please. We have to try.” I break down and start crying.

After a while of sobbing into the phone, María speaks. “Okay. We’ll try it your way. I hope it works. I have to go, my mom needs me. See you tomorrow Hannah.”

“Bye María.” I go downstairs and hang up the phone. My mother is already in bed, fast asleep. My father is not home yet. He just got assigned a new case, has to work late at the office. I kiss my mother on the cheek and head back upstairs to my room. Within minutes, I am sleeping soundly.

                “Come on, sis. Let’s go!” Eli is 5 years old. We are at the ice skating rink to celebrate my parent’s anniversary.

                “All right. Wait a second while I get us ice skates. Eli and I stand in line, get skates for our sizes.

                Eli is jumping up and down with excitement. I tie his skates, then tie mine. We head off to the skating rink. We have a great time. Sliding around, falling, and getting back up. We skate around the rink for an hour or so, our parents following behind us.

                Suddenly, Eli falls and he begins to cry. I know that he is actually hurt this time. All of the other falls ended in laughter, by him. This time, he doesn’t laugh.

                At the sound of Eli crying, my parents rush over. My father bends down and picks up Eli, asking if he is okay.

“Are you okay honey?”

Eli has stopped crying and he nods his head. My father carries him over to the bench beside the ice skating rink. An old lady sits beside him with her granddaughter. She ties her granddaughters ice skates, her face buried in both concentration and frustration.

My parents come back to the ice skating rink. I skate around the rink alone, wishing Eli was there with me. After a few more turns around, I decide to check on Eli and see if he is okay. But when I get to the bench, all I see is the little girl and her grandmother, still trying to tie her ice skates.

6:00 A.M. I am already up as my alarm clock goes off. I throw the covers off of me and rush down stairs. I eat my breakfast in a few bites; drink my orange juice in one big gulp.

                My father looks at me curiously as I do this. “Hungry Hannah?”

                “No, just in a rush to get to school.” I wash my plate and glass, dry them, and put them away in the cupboard.

                                                                             …                                                               

                At school, I have a hard time focusing as usual. But today, I am thinking about how María and I are going to go look for Eli.

                During lunch, Lydia notices that I am having a hard time paying attention.

                “Are you okay Hannah? You seem… somewhere else today.”

“I’m fine. But not that you mention it, there’s something that I wanted to ask you.” I think of the best way to phrase question. I feel like Lydia is becoming a good friend, and I know she wouldn’t hesitate to help my brother.

“After school, María and I are going to go begin a search for my brother, Eli. We are going to put up posters, ask around the neighborhoods. Would you like to come with us and help?”

Lydia ponders this for a few seconds, thinking about it.

“I would love to help you guys. Thank you for even considering asking me to come along.”

Lydia walks around the lunch table to where I am sitting and hugs me.

“You’re welcome, Lydia,” I tell her.

For the rest of the lunch period, we discuss the different places to put up posters, neighborhoods that we should go to. Lydia seems very enthused with the idea of helping, and it makes me happy to know that there is another person that truly cares. Before this, I truly though that nobody  cared. But now I know, there are still some good people left in the world. And I am sitting right across from one.

                At the end of the day, I do not even go to my locker. I told Lydia how María and I agreed to meet by the doors at the entrance of the high school. We will head right into town to begin the search. We figured that this would be the best way to do it, considering how our parents would be worried and most likely not let us leave if we went home first.

                María is standing there alone, peering through the glass part of the door. When I come up to her, she looks at me nervously.  I know she has never done anything like this before, but neither have I. That is why I needed my best friend here with me.

                “I decided to ask Lydia to come along, María. She knows to meet us here, so we should wait for her.”

                As if on cue, Lydia appears beside María and I. She doesn’t look nervous like the two of us. In fact, she looks excited.

                I take a deep breath. “Ready?” I ask them both. María and Lydia nod. We leave the school and begin walking down the street into town, ready to start our search for Eli.

                “Do you have the posters?” I ask María.  

                She nods and unzips her plaid backpack.  María has had that backpack for many years now. Since 8th grade, our second year in middle school, I think. She loves it so much. For her, any excuse to use that old thing is a good one.

Out of the backpack she pulls a stack of posters. It doesn’t look like 100 pages, which is what we agreed on.

“How many did you print?” I eye the stack, afraid that we will not have enough.

María senses the doubt in my voice. “50. I know that we agreed on a hundred, but we are lucky I got this many. And I wasn’t able to print all out at once. Only in intervals of 10. By the time I printed the fourth set of 10 pages, Mr. Dumbly was starting to give me the eye.”

I shake my head to show her that I understand. Mr. Dumbly hates it when people print a whole bunch at once. He always has. One time, I was printing a research paper that was 12 pages. He questioned me for 10 whole minutes about it. He has gotten better, but I still think of him as the Printing Police. So does María.

                “Okay. We will just have to work with what we have.”

                15 minutes later, the three of us enter Chestnut Grove Plaza. This is the plaza where Eli was kidnapped. I think about me paying for the Italian Ice, leaving Eli all alone. How could I do that?  I shudder at the memory and force it out of my head. Now is not the time to feel guilty, it is time to find my brother.

                        In each store, Lydia, Marìa, and I ask the owner if they have seen Eli. I describe his appearance the day that he was kidnapped. The day is imprinted in my head. I remember every single detail, down to what he was wearing, even though it may not even be helpful.

                “Are you sure that you haven’t seen him around? He might not be wearing the same thing, but he has curly brown hair. Green eyes. About four feet nine inches. Please, try to remember.”

                “No, I’m sorry. I have not seen anybody like that around here.”

                “Okay… thank you for your time, sir. If you don’t mind, my friends and I are going to put a poster up outside the store in case anybody had seen him.”

                “That’s fine with me. Sorry about your brother. Have you tried talking to the police?”

                But by the time the store owner has asked me this, the three of us are already walking out the front entrance to the store.

In Chestnut Grove alone, we put up a total of twenty posters, the majority of which are posted right outside of or on the windows of stores. A few posters are put up on electrical poles on either side of the plaza, and two are posted on a billboard inside one store.

                “Where to next?” Lydia asks me as we leave the plaza. I think about this question, not sure exactly how to answer. Where to next? Truthfully, I have no idea where to go next.

Philadelphia is too big. We will not be able to go through all of the towns by tonight. I suddenly realize that I hadn’t thought this through too well. And I realize that we are not going home tonight.

                        “Um, I don’t know guys. I don’t know where we should go next. What I do know is that we are not going home tonight.” I don’t look them both in the eyes as I say this.

                        “What? Where are we going to spend the night and what will we do for food?” Marìa asks me. I continue to avoid Marìa’s eyes, keep walking and taping up posters on the electrical poles dotted along the side of the road. Today is Tuesday and we have until Friday to find Eli or he’s dead. 

                I can feel her gaze on me, waiting for an answer. I search inside myself for the perfect words. But I do not find them. Marìa steps out in front of me, stares into my eyes. Waiting.

                        “Hannah? Hello… are you still there? Look at me.” I look and listen to my best friend, because I do not know what to say to her.

                Out of nowhere, Lydia says “You guys could come over to my house and spend the night. Then, in the morning, instead of going to school we could just continue our search for Hannah’s brother.”

                “What about your parents? Do you think they would be okay with it?” I think that this is a great idea. But I also want to make sure that there is not going to be anything getting in our way. We cannot afford any more hindrances to finding my brother.

                Lydia thinks about this for a moment, then replies. “I’ll call my parents and ask them if it’s okay as soon as we arrive at my house."                                                                       

                I look over at Marìa. I notice that something is bothering her. She notices me looking at her questioningly and answers my question before I even have ask her.

“No offense to you Lydia, but I can’t spend the night. I don’t want my mother to worry. I think that I’m going to ask her to pick me up. I’m sorry Hannah. I know that she will worry, You know how she gets. If I don’t come home or tell her where I am, she will be up the entire night, frantic.” Marìa hands me the stack of posters and looks down at the ground, avoiding my eyes.

                “No, please Marìa.” I come over to where she is standing, bend down to look into her eyes.

“I can’t do this without you. You know that. Just bear with me, okay?” My eyes fill up with tears as I search her face to see if there is any possibility she will change her mind, or if it is already made up for her.  

                Marìa shakes her head slightly, meaning no. She has already made up her mind. I look down, sad to hear this. Then I take my phone out of my pocket and offer it to her.

                “Okay. Do you need to use my phone to call your mom and ask her to pick you up at Lydia’s house?” Marìa takes the phone from me and dials the number. She waits while it rings. After a while her mother picks up.  

                “Hi mom. It’s Marìa.” She asks her mother to pick her up at Lydia’s in an hour, gives them the address.

                “I know that this is last minute, but could you come pick me up from a friend’s house? It is on 345 Slate Street.” Marìa is quiet for a few seconds, listening to her mother on the other end.

“Okay. See you in twenty minutes. Te quiero, mama. Adios.” I can tell how much Marìa loves her mother each and every day, just from the way she talks about her. Ever since her father died, it has been just the two of them.

I feel sorry for Marìa, for her mother, for all of the pain that she has suffered. After her father died, I would let Marìa cry next to me hours, knowing that was the only thing she wanted to do. So I just let her. And now, I am the one crying for hours. Just like I did back then. Now, Marìa lets me cry next to her. I suddenly realize just how much we love and care for each other. I have always known of course, but now it is hitting me like I just ran into a wall.  But overshadowing it all, I am thankful to have her as my friend.

                        I wait patiently for Marìa to hang up the phone before I ask her any questions.  

                        “What are we going to do without you, Marìa?” Marìa hands me the phone and I put it back into my pocket. “Does this mean you are done helping with the search?”

                        “No way. I would never abandon you. Especially at a time like this, when you need me the most. No. In the morning, I’ll simply have my mom drop me off at Lydia’s. Around 7 o’clock. Then we can continue looking for Eli. Together. I just can’t spend the night. My mother will be all alone.” Marìa comes over to me and hugs me tightly, as if to reassure me that she loves me all the same.

                I wrap my arms around my best friend and shed a few tears, too. “It’s okay. Don’t worry. I will see you in the morning.” Before I let go of Marìa, I take her hand. Marìa knows exactly what I am about to do. Just like when we were kids. She follows in suit- we pinkie promise each other that although we would only be separated for the night, that we would be reunited in the morning to continue the search.

My best friend and I walk hand in hand down the street towards 345 Slate Street, Lydia Smiles house. She walks a little bit ahead of us, leading the way.

                We arrive approximately 18 minutes later. Marìa and I walk up the steps to the porch after Lydia. Her house is small and quaint. The house itself is composed of white siding and a gray roof, a gray like charcoal. So dark that it is almost black. On each window rests a little flower box with tulips, daisies, violets, and lilies. Some of the flowers hang over languorously in the afternoon sun, thirsty for a drink of water.  

                Once we reach the porch, Lydia goes up to the front door with a key, unlocks it, and waits for Marìa and I to enter before she comes in, closing the door behind us.

                The inside of Lydia’s house is just like the outside. It is small and old-fashioned, but not too old-fashioned to make you feel as though you have entered a house from the 70’s; and not too small to make you feel claustrophobic. It is the kind of small that is homey, comforting even. I look over at Marìa. She smiles as she looks around, taking it all in.

                        “You have a beautiful house Lydia,” Marìa tells her.

                “Thanks Marìa. I know I moved here only a short while, but for some odd reason it seems as though I have lived here all my life. It’s funny what they say- about something growing on you. This house definitely grew on me since I first moved in. I don’t know if you noticed the flower boxes, but I put them up a month or so after I moved in. To liven it up a little.”

Lydia walks over to a coat rack. “You guys can hang your coats up here. And you can put your shoes over here, if you don’t mind. My parents are kind of strict about walking in the house with shoes.”

Lydia laughs as she says this, like her parents are the only ones with idiosyncrasies which children sometimes fail, for the majority of their childhood, to understand.  

                Marìa and I hang up our jackets and backpacks on the coat rack, set our shoes side by side, neatly on the mat. Then we follow Lydia into the living room. On the couch is a purple bag. There is a pile of books on the floor by the TV, another pile on the left side of the couch.

                Lydia walks over to the coffee table in the middle of the room and begins picking up books, notebooks and pencils which are scattered all over the coffee table.

                “Sorry that it is a little messy. I have the habit of leaving stuff out and forgetting to put it away. I don’t usually have people over so…” She stuffs everything into the purple bag and sets it on the floor. “I can show you guys around, if you want? Give you a little tour.”

                I look at Marìa to see if she is okay with this. She nods and then I turn to Lydia.

                “Sure. We would love a tour.”

                “Great! But first, I better go call my parents and double check if it’s okay for you to stay over, Hannah. And I just want to say I am sorry you won’t be able to Marìa. But you both are still welcome here anytime you like.” Lydia walks into the kitchen, leaving us to ‘make ourselves comfortable.’

                Just as Marìa and I sit down on the couch, we hear the sound of a car horn beeping outside of Lydia’s house.

                That’s my mom. Gotta go.” Marìa takes her backpack from the coat rack and puts on her shoes. I put on my shoes too, and follow Marìa outside to the car where her mother is waiting patiently.

Every time that I see her, she looks the same, as if she hasn’t aged a day. She wears her hair pulled back, high up in a bun, like always. A beautiful blend of natural highlights, consisting of black, brown, and red. Marìa has the same hair as her mother, except hers is straight and down, extending the length of her back.

Before she gets in the car, she turns to me. We hug each other once more. I wave hello to her mother as Marìa gets in the car and her mother begins to drive away. I watch as they disappear around the bend and head back inside the house.

When I come back inside, Lydia notices that Marìa is not with me. “Was that her mom? Oh well, it really is a shame that Marìa couldn’t stay. How about that tour?”

                        For the tour, Lydia takes me through each room pointing out something unique to us about each one, like I am at the zoo and she is giving me a tour through each exhibit.

                        After she shows me the entire downstairs, Lydia excuses herself to use the bathroom. I walk to the living room and sit down.

“She really does have a nice house,” I think to myself. I get up and go over to the pile of books beside the TV. She sure does love to read, too.

I scan the title of each book. A Stolen Life. Still Missing. Larry Gets Lost in Philadelphia. Finding Me. Held Captive. The Lost Girls.

I go to the next pile of books and do the same. Philadelphia: Then and Now. The Best of Philadelphia Stories. The Art of Self-defense. Karate Fighting Techniques: The Complete Kumite.

 It might just be me, but it seems like an odd collection of books for someone as happy and friendly as Lydia Smiles.

“What are you looking at Hannah?” I jump. I did not even heard Lydia come in, but she is standing right next to me. 

“I was just looking at your books. I can tell that you like to read a lot. These books seem very… interesting.”

“Yeah. You can get so much out of books. Whenever I have free time, I like to pick one up and start reading. If you would like to borrow one, just go ahead. And Marìa, too.” This time, her smile seems too genuine to be real. She bends down to pick up a book, shows it to me.

“I think that you would find this one especially interesting.” She watches to see my reaction.

I read the title. Rocky Stories. Before I have time to answer, there is a knock on the door. Lydia has a look of surprise on her face, like she wasn’t expecting anybody. She looks to the door, and then looks back to me.

“Oh, I better go get that.” Lydia sets the book on the coffee table and goes to answer the door. I wonder who this could be. Her parents cannot be back already. They left only 30 minutes ago for Lydia’s younger brother’s soccer game.

I sit down on the couch and think about Lydia, about the books. It doesn’t make sense that she would have all of these books about missing people, martial arts, and Philadelphia, considering her personality. I know that I met her not that long ago, but I feel like they are not compatible with Lydia at all.

Suddenly, Lydia enters the room with a man who I assume to be the one knocking on the door.

He is tall, with short brown hair. So short that it offsets his height. My guess would be that he is in his late 30’s, but he looks young for his age. He is wearing jeans and a long, black overcoat. His right ear is pierced and on that ear he wears a black hoop earring.

“Hannah. I would like to introduce you to Kyle Pete. He’s a… family friend.”

“Nice to meet you, Kyle,” I say. I get up and go over to shake his hand. His hands are rough, like a construction worker, but by his appearance and physique I can tell that he isn’t one.

Kyle nods his head as if to say it’s nice to meet me, too. After Lydia introduces me to Kyle, she excuses them both. I go back to the couch and sit down. I try to avoid it, but every few seconds I glance over at the book on the coffee table curiously, at the books stacked in piles throughout the living room.

A few minutes later, Lydia and Kyle reenter the living room. Lydia says goodbye as he leaves the house. She avoids my eyes as she comes over to the couch opposite to the one I am sitting on. She slumps down into the cushions, looking exhausted.

“Are you all right Lydia?” She looks different. Her usual smile has dissipated and she rests her head back against the couch, her brow wrinkled in frustration. She shakes her head yes, but I can tell that she is not really okay.

For the rest of the afternoon, we talk and relax. We do our homework; take a walk in the woods behind her house.

When we come out of the woods, heading back to the porch, a dog appears and runs up to us from the front of the house. He is a Black Russian Terrier. He is almost as big as Lydia. He jumps up at her, rests his paws on her thighs when she bends down to his level.

“I didn’t know you had a dog, Lydia.” I bend down like she did and stroke his curly black fur. He big brown eyes, ones that like most dogs, plea for attention.

“Yeah. I’ve had him for about a year, now. He’s getting so big. His name is Jinx.”

When the sun sets, Lydia makes popcorn and all we watch a movie together. Around seven I notice that her parents have not come home. She has not called them, nor have they called her either.

“Where are your parents Lydia? Wouldn’t your brother’s soccer game be over by now?”

She looks surprised that I asked this. “They… dropped my brother off at one of his friend’s house after the game. Then they went out for dinner and are going to see a movie. They won’t be back until late. They texted me about an hour ago to let me know. They said they had been planning this for a while. And now my brother is at a friend’s house and you guys are over, it is the perfect time.”

By the time we are both ready to go to sleep, I am everything but tired. The couch turns into a bed, so Lydia moves the coffee table out of the way and gets it set up for me. I get comfortable as Lydia heads upstairs to her room. She assured me to let her know if we need anything and to help ourselves if we get thirsty or hungry in the middle of the night.

I lay there on the couch bed, struggling to find sleep. I think about Marìa, home sleeping in her own bed. Tonight is the first night in years that we haven’t called each other on the phone to talk.

When we were kids, we use to sleep over each other’s houses about every weekend. She would snore all through the night, keeping me up. In return, I would keep her up because I couldn’t sleep with her snoring, and we would spend the rest of the night playing games, talking about the future. That was our favorite pastime. Talking about the future. But nowhere in mine could I tell that my little brother would be taken. But I am going to do everything in my power to get him back. No matter what the cost.

Next my mind wanders to Eli and I try to imagine what he is doing at this very moment. Wherever he is. I think about Lydia. She has been so kind to Marìa and I through this. But at the same time, she has been mysterious, almost in an eerie way. My mind begins to wander to the books stacked neatly in piles around me, especially Rocky Stories. And her parents? Suddenly, things are starting to not make sense, and Lydia is becoming less friendly and weirder to me.

I slowly make my way off of the mattress, trying not to make too much noise. If I want to find out what is truly going on with Lydia, this may be my only chance.

I tiptoe up the stairs and down the hall to Lydia’s bedroom. She is curled up in her bed, eyes closed. It looks safe to me, so I go over to nightstand where her purple bag rests. I pull out her cell phone and turn it on. Unfortunately, she has a security code set up. Just when I thought that I was going to find some answers.

                I search my head for something, anything. What could the password be? My fingers glide over the keys, typing the first word that comes to mind. LYDIA. An alert pops up and tells me to ‘TRY AGAIN.’ I also try SMILES, HAPPY, and LS, but none of these work. Think harder, I tell myself. Then suddenly it hits me. JINX. The red alert disappears and I am in. I click the button for ‘Inbox.’

The last message she received was at 6:20 P.M. I open it up. There is no name from the sender. Only a number. 724-999-1208. I grab a pen from the purple bag and write the number down on my hand, place the pen back where I found it. Then I read the message.

Meet me outside Fat Tony’s at 12:00.Tonight.

                Fat Tony’s. I try to think of where that could be. I know the name sounds familiar to me. Then I remember. Chestnut Grove Plaza. Fat Tony’s is the pizza place next to the store where my mother went to look for furniture for the nursery. I turn off her phone and put it back inside the purple bag in the same place it had been before. And just like I thought: no message from her parents.

                                I go back downstairs; lay down on the mattress. I close my eyes and try to sleep, but it doesn’t come. I know that I will be up all night.

No, Hannah. No. It is none of your business I tell myself. But who am I kidding? I’m going to go anyway.

CHAPTER 10

HANNAH

                I am wide awake when I hear Lydia come down stairs, unlock the front door, and leave.  After I make sure that she has turned down the street, I pull out my phone and dial the number I know by heart. It rings for what feels like forever, but what in actuality is about 5 whole seconds.

                “Hannah? What’s going on? It’s 11:40 P.M.

                “There is something not right about Lydia. I have to find out what it is. I’m going to… follow her. To Chestnut Grove Plaza. ” I get up, put on my jacket, and head for the door with María still on the other end. I wait for her to ask me why.

As if on cue, María asks “Why are you following her to Chestnut Grove Plaza? How do you even know that she is going there, when it is almost midnight?” I step out onto the porch, welcomed by a wave of cold air. María waits patiently on the phone for me to answer. When I am a little ways down the street, I finally answer her.
 

                “You know how she said that her parents were taking her brother to a soccer game? Well after a few hours, when they didn’t come home, I asked her where they were. This time she told me they dropped her brother off at a friend’s house and then they went out to dinner and to see a movie. But I don’t think that they are.”

                        “So you think that she lied about her parents seeing a movie? And what if she did lie about them, what does that prove?”

                        “But that’s not all. She told me that her parents texted her to inform her they would be home late. So after Lydia went to bed, I checked her phone. The last text message she received was from an unlisted number. Whoever this person was, they said to meet her at Fat Tony’s at 12:00 tonight. So I am following her there. Also, I met a guy today that Lydia said was a family friend. She took him into another room at one point, I don’t know what was said. But he is definitely strange.”
 

I look to my left, then to my right. It is pitch black outside and I am shaking with fright.  

“It is dangerous. There could be kidnappers out ther-” I stop walking and wait for María to finish her sentence.

“I’m sorry. Wrong choice of words. But it really is scary out here. Just please tell me what’s going on. Why are you acting so strange, Hannah?”

                                “I am going to Fat Tony’s. Or I should say I am following Lydia to Fat Tony’s. And I know what you’re thinking, but we have known each other for so long. You just have to trust me. I’m starting to think that Lydia is not everything that she seems to be. Something isn’t right and I am determined to find out.”

                        I know that María just has to admit, Lydia is a little strange. Recommending that book to me. Having all those books about martial arts and self-defense. Not to mention all of the ones about kidnapping. The weird ‘family friend’ named Kyle Pete who was dressed like the Grim Reaper. And we cannot forget the mystery of Lydia’s parents. It is almost midnight and they still aren’t home. It doesn’t add up.

                        “There’s something else I forgot to tell you about, María. You know how she had all of those books. Well most of them were about abductions, self-defense, and Philadelphia. Lydia came into the room and saw me looking at them. She recommended one to me. Rocky Stories. I just can’t figure it out.

Especially since we got the ransom letter from the kidnappers. To my father, saying they wanted the money brought outside the museum. By the Rocky Statue. Of all books, why would she recommend that to me María?”

                        “Well, remember how you told me that you left the letter in the cafeteria during lunch and she brought it to you as you were getting on the bus? You were wondering if she had read it. I told you to call her and ask. Did you ever end up asking her if she read it?”

                        “I did call her afterwards to ask, but she beat me to it. She said that she read the letters, that she hoped I didn’t mind.”

                “Then maybe that is the reason. Maybe she thought you might want to do some research on it, is all.” I think about what María said. I hadn’t thought about her reading the letter. 

                “Maybe you’re right. But that doesn’t explain her parents. I’m still going to Fat Tony’s..”

                        “Okay. Why don’t you call me when you get there?”

                        “Okay, I’ll do that. Bye María.”

                        “Bye Hannah.”

Fifteen minutes later I reach the plaza. At least the stores have bright lights shining. They give me a pivotal view of the entire area, including all of the stores and the parking lot.

                I walk across the street into the parking lot. Most of the stores are open, with big signs posted in the windows saying “Open 24 hours.” I walk past each store. When I reach Fat Tony’s, I see Lydia inside. She is sitting at a table, waiting. She pulls out her phone and watches the screen.

                        It would probably be better if I hide behind a car or something, I think to myself. I walk into the parking lot; get behind a black el Camino. Then I wait. And wait. Finally, a hooded man enters the pizza shop and sits down at the table, in the chair across from Lydia. I do not have a good shot of his face, even when he takes off his hood, because he is facing away from me. But I recognize his buzz cut and the piercing on his right ear. Kyle Pete.

I take my phone out and dial María’s number again. She answers right away and I don’t even say hello, just begin talking.

“I knew it would be him. I could tell that there was something strange going on between them. I bet you he isn’t really a family friend.”

“Who? What are you talking about, Hannah?” I forgot that María was already gone by the time that Lydia introduced me to Kyle Pete.

                        I want to stay and continue watching, but at the same time I want to be back in Lydia’s house sleeping. I am afraid to find out something that I am not supposed to know. Part of me wants to stay and find out the relationship between the two, and part of me doesn’t want Lydia to know about this. Because as far as I, and María know, Lydia has not been truthful to us.

                “After your mom came and picked you up, Lydia gave me a little tour of her house. Afterwards, Kyle Pete came over. She said that he was a family friend. I knew that he looked strange. He is the one that texted her, to meet him at Fat Tony’s. I see him now. I am just going to stay for a few minutes and watch. Then I will head back. She will never even know that I was gone. Or that I followed her.”

I know that María doesn’t think this a good idea, but she doesn’t say anything opposing my plan. We both know that I would still be here, curious, despite any plea from her to return to Lydia’s house right now.

Kyle and Lydia talk for a while. Lydia looks around every so often, like she is afraid that somebody is watching her. At one point, Lydia shakes her head no. Kyle stands up, angry. He points his finger at Lydia. Slams his chair under the table.

Lydia gets up and walks over to him, lays her hand on his shoulder. He approaches Lydia and tries to kiss her. At least it looks like a kiss from behind this black el Camino. But she recoils from Kyle’s attempted gesture. After this rejection, he reaches out for her hand, but she pulls it away. Then he walks out of Fat Tony’s furiously without another word and heads down the parking lot into the darkness.  

Lydia sits back at the table, sipping a glass that a waiter handed her only seconds before their ‘fight.’ She looks both concerned and relieved at what just happened.

“Okay now I am going.” I stand up and speed walk out of the parking lot and across the street. I start for Lydia’s house, feeling a little bit tired but wide awake at the same time.

“I do not believe what just happened? Kyle Pete is more than a family friend, María.” I shake my head in disbelief.

“Yeah. But, he’s like… 36 years old. And Lydia is 17. Isn’t that illegal?”

“Lydia told us she’s 17. But I am not so sure I believe that anymore. In fact, I am not sure what to believe.” I think about this for a minute.

“But she goes to school. She’s in our grade. Do you really think that she could lie about her age? Wouldn’t they check that?” María’s voice is full of as much disbelief as mine.

I suddenly feel dizzy, my mind racing with questions. Who is Lydia Smiles? “I don’t know those answers right now. But I am determined to find them. I should be back way before her. I’ll pretend like I am asleep. Then, when she returns, I will ask her where she went. She’ll have to explain then. Won’t she?”

“I don’t know Hannah. But make sure you call me afterwards and let me know what happened.”

I arrive back at Lydia’s house, panting to catch my breath. I get into the bed she made for me and wait for her to come back. I lay there in bed, going over everything that happened, trying to piece the puzzle together in my mind.

CHAPTER 11

LYDIA

I open the door and go inside, locking the door behind me. I look to the bed/couch and see Hannah, just waking up from sleeping. She turns over, opens her eyes slowly, and she sees me standing there.  

“Lydia, is that you? Where did you go?”

“Just for a walk. It helps me clear my head.” I head into the kitchen. I hear Hannah get up and follow me, ready to question me some more. I have to think of an excuse fast.  

Hannah looks at the clock on the wall, says the time loud enough for the both of us. “It’s one o’clock in the morning. By the way, where are your parents?”

I do everything but look her in the eyes. I can tell that Hannah isn’t buying that story anymore. Heck, even I wouldn’t have.  

“I already told you that…” But I don’t even finish the sentence. I look up at the clock, then to the window in the kitchen. “I’ll be right back. I have to take the dog out.”

                I take Jinx’s leash from the coat rack and go outside, and down to the end of the street. Then I take out my cell phone and dial the number that I was given. 

                “Okay. We are all set. She’s inside the house. Alone.”

                        “Be there in 5 minutes.” Then they hang up.

                I stand there with Jinx in the darkness, waiting for them to come get Hannah. That girl will stop at nothing to get her brother back. Unfortunately, what that means for us, is another barrier to getting the ransom money.

                        I had assured Grit that this was going to be quick and painless. It wasn’t that I was lying to him; I had truly thought it was going to turn out that way.

                My mind goes back to the meeting we had tonight at Fat Tony’s. He seemed so upset. I knew as well as he did that Hannah staying at my house was going to be a thorn in our sides. I tried to tell him that I had it all planned out. I explained to him how Hannah and her friend were going to look for Eli, and how she had asked me to join. I couldn’t just say no, for fear of blowing my cover. So I decided to go along with it, hoping it would help Hannah trust me.

And she did, which made it a whole lot easier for her to agree to spend the night here when they didn’t have a place to stay. I handed Hannah right to him. Grit didn’t have to do a darn thing. Why doesn’t he understand that? 

But no, instead of thanking me and being appreciative, he gets even madder, saying that I should never have suggested her spending the night. That it just makes his job a whole lot harder. But having both of them would make persuading the parents to hand over the money so much easier.

But I should remember, like he painfully reminded me tonight, I am just the scout. And that’s all I will ever be. I locate the victims for him and he does the rest.

I just don’t understand why that made him so upset tonight. Sometimes, I just don’t understand the way he thinks or why he does things. And I was surprised at myself tonight, when he tried to kiss me. I know that he loves me… in his own way. But at the same time, I feel like I am being used.

All at once, I am blinded by headlights. A car appears on the street and pulls into the driveway. Grit gets out of the car quietly, and two other guys follow suit. They disappear behind the house, to enter through the back door.

I take Jinx and walk over to the house, try to peer in through the windows to see what is going on. I see Grit and the two guys moving quietly in the darkness, using the light of the moon to guide them. Hannah is in the kitchen still. From what I can see, she is talking on the phone. As Grit moves closer, she stops talking and stands still.

He jumps into the kitchen and grabs her. She drops her cell phone on the floor, kicking and screaming with all of her might, trying to escape Grit’s grasp. But I know the feeling of that grasp. She will never get free from it unless he chooses to let go of her.

Grit takes her into the living room, throws her on the floor. The guy to the left of him takes out a roll of duct tape. He rips off a piece and covers up her mouth, muffling the screams which are now barely audible from outside the house. I almost look away from what happens next.

Despite the fact that she can’t scream any more, Hannah continues to fights, flinging her arms and legs in all directions. Grit takes hold of her legs and picks her up. He throws her across the room and she hits the wall. Then the guy who taped her mouth goes over and picks up her now limp body and all three of them walk towards the back door.  

I run to the back of the house and wait for them to come through. Grit comes out first. He looks angrier than I have ever seen him before, and thinking about what he just did, I am terrified. Jinx runs off into the woods, but lacking the instinct that he has, I just stand there, watching Grit move closer to me.

As he approaches me, I wonder if I were to piss him off enough, would he throw me against a wall. But I am not eager to find out. Not tonight.

“Now do you understand why this was such a bad idea? Now do you get it? It just makes more work for me.” He lets out a sigh and shakes his head. “Let’s get out of here.”

 “Wait. I have to get a few things first,” I tell him. He nods his head curtly at me and makes his way to the front of the house.

I rush inside and grab my jacket, my purse. I head into the kitchen where they got Hannah. Her phone is still lying on the kitchen floor, with no apparent damage.

I pick it up and look at the screen. The phone call is still going. I hold it to my ear, trying to quiet my breath.

“Hannah! Are you there? Hannah!” It is María, just like I had thought. “Hannah?!”

“She’s not here,” I say into the phone.

“Who is this?” María asks. I hang up the phone, turn it off, and put it in my purse. Next I gulp down a cold glass of water and head for the back door, walk to the front and find Grit waiting for me.

I follow him to the car and get in the passenger seat beside him. The two guys put Hannah in the trunk and then they get in the back seats. For most of the ride, no one says anything. We just drive in both darkness and silence. I do not even look over at Grit. He knows that I am upset and I can feel his gaze on me.

After a while, he searches for my hand in the dark, and finds it. He brings it to his lips and softly kisses the back of my hand. I shudder and try to pull it away, but I can’t. It’s his grasp.

CHAPTER 12

ELI

                I wake up to the sound of Neo and Flash running down the basement steps. My leg is throbbing, sending sharp pains all the way up my body to my head.

                The days are beginning to drift into one another. I sleep most of the day, and when I’m up it feels like a dream because I see bits and pieces. Every hour or so, Flash comes down to take my temperature, give me medicine to help with the pain. Neo unwraps my leg, examines it closely. Then he wraps it back up with a new bandage.

                Today, as Flash takes the thermometer out of my mouth, he looks worried. He goes over to Neo and shows him. His face grows worrisome, too. They look back at each other, then to me.

                Flash looks angry. I know that it is towards Grit, even though he yells at Neo.

“He needs to go to a hospital, Neo. We can’t give him the proper care that a doctor can.”

                        Neo goes back to concentrating on wrapping my leg. “Don’t you think I know that? But there is nothing that we can do. We will just have to make do with what we have. At the hospital, they ask for all kinds of information. Grit would never risk getting caught, even to save Eli’s life.”

Neo finishes wrapping my leg. He takes the thermometer from Flash and moves closer to me. Curiously, I lift my head up just enough to read the tiny black numbers. 102.5 degrees. I know that these things are always accurate, but how can my temperature be that high when I am so cold?

                        Neo must’ve read my mind, because he reaches behind him and grabs a rag. He dips it in a bucket of water and places it on my forehead. It is nice and warm and it takes my mind off of my leg.

                “Where did you learn to do all of this?” I ask Neo. Having spent most of his childhood in the care of the infamous Grit, I am curious as to where Neo learned this.

“My mother was a nurse, my father a surgeon. You know how most kids get read stories before they go to bed? Well our parents would play doctor with us and teach us things like CPR, how to clean a wound, stuff like that. Right now, I am especially happy for that.”

Neo looks to his brother and they smile at each other. Not a smile that says ‘Right now life is wonderful,’ but a smile that says ‘Thank you.’ Despite all that they have gone through, it makes me happy for them that they can still appreciate small things, that they have good memories of their childhood along with the bad ones. Even if I never get to see my family again, I am glad to have met these two, glad to have had the opportunity to hear their story.

I hear the sound of glass breaking upstairs, Grit swearing at the air. Just another reason for him to be angry at the world. I think about all that I know about Grit. I wish I could have heard his story.

“I’ll be back in an hour. If that rag starts to get cold, go ahead and put it back into the bucket. The water should still be warm.” And with that, the two brothers head upstairs afraid to face Grit.

After they go back upstairs, my mind wanders. To Grit. To Lady. To my parents. To Hannah. But most of all, to my unborn baby brother.

Jacob, my mother wants to call him.  I try to imagine what he will look like. Maybe he will have my father’s brown eyes, my mother’s dark chocolate hair.  I try to imagine what he will look like. Maybe he will have my father’s brown eyes, my mother’s dark chocolate hair. Maybe it will even be curly, like mine. When I was younger, my mother would spend forever trying to brush out my curls.

“No, mommy!” I would plead to her. “Those are supposed to be there. Don’t take away my curlies. No!”

My mother would put the brush down on the counter beside the sink, shake her head at me and laugh. “I have never dealt with curly hair before, Eli. I just don’t know what to do with it.”

By age 5, my mother came to the conclusion that the curls were there to stay, that she just had to accept that fact. The funny thing is, she couldn’t.

By age 8, they had gotten so out of hand that my mother was fed up. “I am taking our son to get a haircut,” she told my father one day. He looked up from his newspaper at my mother questioningly. “A short one,” she continued. But I loved my curly hair. My  mother seemed to be the only one that actually had a problem with it.

I was four years old, sitting in the barber shop waiting for my turn, with tears running down my cheeks. I didn’t want to go through with it, but my mom wouldn’t have any of it.

“Your hair is rebellious, just like you, Eli. Maybe straightening up your hair will straighten up you, huh?” I knew even at that age that my mother was trying to cheer me up. And looking back, she was right. I was rebellious. I was always getting into trouble.

“If it isn’t one thing, it’s another,” my father used to say. Like most people, I regret things that I have done. And one of my biggest regrets is what I said next to my mother.

“I don’t care. And I don’t care about you. You aren’t my mommy anymore. I hate you.”

I am pretty sure that the people around us heard me say this, but they if they did they didn’t acknowledge it. Probably so my mother wouldn’t get embarrassed. I looked into her eyes with that look of defiance most toddlers have. By 4, I had not grown out of it and it was beginning to show.

My mother just stared at me. She didn’t even say a word for the rest of the time we were in the barber shop. I know that she was hurt, though. Later on that night, I completely forgot about the comment I had made earlier. When it was time to go to bed, I waited for her to come kiss me goodnight. She would always come to my room to tuck me in and say goodnight. When she didn’t come, I started to cry. My mother came into the room once she heard me cry.

She came up to the bed and turned on the lamp. “Why are you crying Eli?”

“Because you didn’t come tuck me in, mommy.” I sniffled and wiped away my tears with the back of my hand.

My mother looked me right in the face and told me what she had been waiting to say all day long. “So when I tell you to do something you don’t like, I’m not your mommy anymore, but when things aren’t going well for you, then you want me to be your mommy? It doesn’t work like that Eli. All we have is each other. Whether you like it or not, you are stuck with me. Forever.”

Knowing the things that I know now, I wish I could go back. Go back and tell her that I am sorry. And I fear that I will never get to tell her just how much she is my mom. Forever. And I fear that I will never get the chance to meet my brother, to teach him right from wrong the way an older brother should.

I fall asleep with the image of Jacob in my head. He is two years old, with curly brown hair the color of dark chocolate and brown eyes that share the same color. I am teaching him how to say the alphabet. He repeats the letters after me.

“A, B, C.” I say to Jacob. His eyes are big and round, trying to stay focused on the task at hand, but his mind is wandering to other places. What more can you expect, considering two year olds have an attention span of approximately 15 seconds.

When I wake up, I see Flash and Neo bent down beside me. I am surprised to find that they are not checking my temperature or wrapping up my leg. Then at the bottom of the stairs, I see someone and it appears to be a girl. Her face is buried in her hands, but I recognize the light blonde hair that is tied up in a ponytail. It is Lady.

I have not seen her since that day in the basement when I lost my voice, but I remember every detail of that day. The glass of water. Her hand hitting me across the face.  That was the first time in my life I ever felt hatred for somebody. As I look across the room and see her, those same feelings of hate are sparked and the fire swells inside of me.

“What is she doing here?” I ask Neo and Flash. Neo looks up and turns to the stairs where Lady holds her head in her hands.

“Grit had taken a couple of guys with him and took off about half an hour ago. We had no idea where he was going, but he just got back. With her. He dropped her off and left.”

I fight every bone in my body not to call out to her, to tell her what I really think of her. But in the end, I just look away, my eyes swelling up with tears. I have not heard her story, either.

Lady looks around the basement, but she avoids looking directly at me. I wish that I did not have these chains around my ankles. I would leave this basement, leave this house. I have no idea exactly where I am, but I would run. Just run and run. Feel the wind in my hair. The grass under my feet. The sun shining down on my face.

Any hope I had of getting out of here was crushed when Grit walked in on us. It was only yesterday, but it feels like a lifetime ago. I skim over the events that took place, remembering the sound of the gun Girt had. The feeling of the bullet as it went into my leg. Two brothers kneeling over me as my vision faded away. Waking up down here on the cement floor.

I was so close to freedom, I tasted it. But now, there is no chance of escaping. There is no chance Flash and Neo to start a new life. We are back where we started.

I glance over at Lady. Now she is staring right at me, trying to figure things out. What goes through her head? What goes through Grit’s? I wonder how someone’s life could be so bad, that they would try to take away someone else’s. I am not saying this just because it is me, but for all the innocent lives everywhere. How someone could hurt so much, that the only way to feel better is to see someone else suffer.

“I met her. She really does care for you. More than I ever imagined. She has been looking for you.” Lady gets up and walks across the basement. She stares into my eyes with an expression which I am unable to read. But it is what she says next that really gets to me.

                “He has her, Eli.” I digest this sentence for a few seconds. I cannot think of anything to say to this. But the anger inside me swells up, this time uncontrollably. I spit in her face.

She flinches and wipes it away with the sleeve of her sweater. I close my eyes, waiting for her to hit me. But she doesn’t. She just stares at me, her eyes shiny with tears. Lady looks down at the floor, buries her face in her hands once more.  

Then Lady begins to cry. It is a cry like nothing I have ever heard. A loud, shrilling cry. But also a sad, sorrowful cry. And it truly sounds sincere.

I hear the sound of footsteps, Neo and Flash running down to the basement. They probably think that I am the one crying and that she has caused it, regretting leaving me alone with her. Once they reach the bottom of the steps and see that Lady is the one crying, their countenances change from worry to shock.

Bewildered, they slowly approach Lady and I, not sure what to do. Even when she becomes aware of Flash and Neo’s presence, she continues to cry into her hands. They stand there for a while, waiting for the crying to cease. Once it does, Lady looks up from her hands, her face red and streaked with tears.

Without another word, Lady goes upstairs and shuts the door behind her.

Certain that she is out of hearing range, Flash looks to me. “What was that all about?” Neo looks at me with a look that asks the very same question.

“I don’t know,” I tell them both.

Unexpectedly, I hear a car pull up. Flash and Neo hear it too, I can tell, because of their faces turn as white as snow. Grit has returned.

The three of us hear Grit enter the house, along with two other unfamiliar voices. Then I  hear a girl’s muffled scream. Grit yells something that I do not understand and makes his way into the basement with the two unfamiliar voices behind him. He is carrying someone, but their face is turned away. Grit sets her down repulsively on the cement floor, but she is out cold. Now that he has set her down, I can see her face much clearer than before.

All at once, my body goes numb and the only thing I can see is the macaroni necklace around her neck, the knotted and matted hair clumped on her head and the bluish/purplish bruises taking shape on her olive skin.

“Noooooooooo!” I scream and scream until I don’t even know how to anymore. “No. Hannah!” I reach out for my sister, but the chains around my ankles only let me go so far. By now Grit is laughing, along with his posse.

When my voice doesn’t seem to work anymore I cry silently, all the while reaching out for my sister. She stirs every so often, but she doesn’t wake up. I call her name out to her but she doesn’t answer me.

Neo appears at my side, examining my leg. As soon as I saw my sister, all of my senses shut off. I didn’t even realize that I was making it worse by moving around so much.

“Shh. Calm down, Eli. You’re only making your leg worse. You have to rest.”

I hear Neo’s voice, but I right now, I can’t think about anything except my sister lying on the ground in front of me unconscious. I haven’t seen her in months, but now she’s right in front of me and I can’t reach her.

At that moment, the phone rings and Grit stops laughing. “I have to go get that. Scooter, you stay here. Brass, you come with me.”

Grit gets up and heads upstairs, mumbling under his breath, resentful of the phone for interrupting his entertainment for today. The shorter guy, Brass, follows him upstairs, leaving the rest of us in the basement.  

I do not take my eyes off of Hannah. More than anything in the world, I want her to wake up. To see me here. But she doesn’t. The tears begin to fall and I refuse to hold them back any longer. I cry for Hannah to be alive. I cry for her hand to reach out and grab mine.

“Just shut up already!” the guy named Scooter yells in my direction. But even that doesn’t stop me from sobbing uncontrollably, staining the cement floor with my tears.

I look over to where Flash and Neo are sitting and see them exchange glances. What are they up to? I think to myself. But my question is answered as Neo picks up a plank of wood nonchalantly and hides it behind his back. Flash glances in my direction and sees me watching them.

Even Scooter doesn’t see it coming as Neo whacks him with the wood so hard that he falls over unconscious. Flash drags him over to the wall, ties his hands together and then to the furnace with an old piece of rope.

Neo goes over to Hannah, checking for a pulse. Flash comes over to me. “I’m going to go find the keys to take these chains off. Be right back,” and disappears upstairs quickly.

“Is she still alive, Neo. Please tell me that she is.” My eyes start to become cloudy with tears again, waiting for Neo to reply.

“Yes. But she is unconscious. I can’t tell how severe her injuries are. We have to get you guys out of here.”

“Just let me touch her” I plead to Neo. He looks from me to Hannah. Then he picks her up gently and sets her down closer to me. I stroke her hair, whisper her name softly.

Flash comes back down the stairs, with the keys in his hand. “They were in the same drawer. I knew that Grit wasn’t very smart, but I had no idea that he was this dumb,” Flash says, more to himself than anyone else.

With his hands shaking, Flash unlocks the chains. He helps me up while Neo carries Hannah. The four of us start up the stairs, Scooter just beginning to stir. Quiet as possible, we get up stairs and make for the door.

Grit is in the kitchen, still on the phone. Brass is sitting at the table stuffing his face with some sort of cake. Lady, sitting across from Brass, looks toward the entrance into the kitchen where I am. I freeze with fear, waiting for her to warn Grit. But she doesn’t do anything except stare at me.

Rediscovering my ability to walk, I continue into the living room. But we are too late. I hear Scooter yelling at the top of his lungs, warning Grit.

“They’re gone! Grit, get them!” Before we have time to make it to the door, Grit enters the kitchen with Brass.

Brass runs for me and grabs my by the arm. I sink my teeth into his upper arm and he lets out a scream. This time, he grabs me by the hair. I reach for anything I can. I find the arm of the couch and hold on for dear life. Out of the corner of my eye I see Grit take hold of Flash and fling him onto the smaller couch. Then he starts towards Neo.

Grit takes old of Hannah and tosses her onto the floor. Then he grabs Neo and punches him in the ribs. Then again. And again. Neo reaches behind him, grabs a lamp. He brings it forward and crashes it on top of Grit’s head. He stumbles forward a little bit, then falls over. Neo staggers a bit from the several blows to his ribs. Then he stares down at Grit astonishingly, like he can’t believe what he just did. Then he helps Flash up and they both jump onto Brass, who is still trying to pry me from the arm of the couch.

Next thing I know, we hit the floor and Brass’s grip on me weakens. I struggle out of and rush over to where my sister lies. Her eyes are opened and she stares straight ahead.

For a moment she doesn’t even recognize me, but when she comes to it, she sits straight up and wraps her arms around me. I can barely breathe, but it is a good feeling. I missed my sister’s arms around me, knowing that she will always be there to protect me.

“Eli, oh I can’t believe it’s you! Where are we?” She looks around the unfamiliar house and at the foreign people around her.

“There’s no time to explain, Hannah. We have to get out of here. Now.” I help Hannah up off of the ground. Her legs give way at first, but recover their strength quickly. “Neo, Flash. We have to go.” Together, they have managed to knock out Brass as well, with a little help from another one of the living room lamps. They stand over his unconscious body just now realizing what is happening.

“I don’t think that you guys are going anywhere.” I look over and find Grit, pointing his gun at Hannah and I. His head is bleeding, but he doesn’t seem to notice. He moves the gun to Neo and Flash now. “Neither are you two. I want everyone to sit down. Now!”

I find Hannah’s hand and squeeze it. We walk hand in hand to the couch and sit down as commanded. Neo finds his seat of the couch, same as Flash. The four of us sit there in silence.

He goes over to Brass and bends down beside him. “You better hope he’s not dead. Or you’ll all be dead!”

“You wouldn’t kill them, Grit. You need them too much,” Neo’s shaky voice says. And I realize that Neo is actually right. Grit can say it as many times as he wants to, but Neo is right.

If he kills Hannah and I, then he will never get his money. But what if kills Neo and Flash? It is true that he will be out of two people to help him with his crimes, but he can easily find more orphans to gain the trust of and then use them.

“Why don’t you just shut up Neo. After everything that I have done for you, I can’t believe you guys would turn your back on me. You guys were homeless, living on the street. And I took you in. I don’t hear you thanking me for that. If it wasn’t for me, you and your brother wouldn’t have all of this.”

Grit waves the hand that is not holding the gun around, motioning to the house.

“Yeah, like we have so much more now.” This time it is Flash who speaks.

“You do, actually. And you are about to lose it.” Just then Brass wakes up, a little disoriented. He rubs his head, brushes his hand over the lump forming that Neo gave him. Grit looks over at Brass, then back to us to make sure we haven’t moved, then back to Brass.

“Brass, are you all right man?” Brass gets up slowly and nods at Grit to say that he is fine. He sits on the coffee table, still rubbing the lump. “Go get Scooter. I think he’s in the basement. Oh, and go find Lady while you’re at it.”

Brass stands up and walks out of the living room without any opposition. Grit leans against the wall, staring us down with that gun still pointed in our direction. I remember my leg, the sound of the gun as the bullet was shot into my leg. But right now I do not feel any pain. I feel Grit across the room, pointing a gun at me. I feel my life passing before my eyes, about to be ended.

But most of all, I feel my sister’s hand in mine. If I die today, at least I would with her right beside me.

No longer full of fear, I look over at Hannah, whose face is streaked with tears. She looks over at me and smiles, her grasp suddenly tighter on my hand. She mouths the words “I love you” and I repeat it back to her.

Brass enters the room with Scooter on one side and Lydia on the other. “What now?”

Grit looks to Brass, not sure what to do next, like he hasn’t thought this through. “Let’s… take them downstairs.” Grit motions for us to follow him, Brass, Scooter, and Lydia down stairs single file. First Neo, then Flash, then my, with Hannah last. Even as we make our way down the stairs and into the basement, Hannah’s hand does not let go of mine.

Once we reach the bottom of the stairs, he shoves us towards the far end of the basement, by the furnace, where Neo and Flash had tied up Scooter.

“You guys are going to stay here and not cause any more trouble. Because the first person that makes any attempt to escape will have to answer to me. And I don’t think you want that.”

Grit takes two guns out from under his shirt, tucked into his waistband. He hands one to Scooter and the other one to Brass. He doesn’t give one to Lady, but motions for her to follow him upstairs instead and takes hold of her arm.  

“Keep an eye on them, you two. Obviously, Scooter couldn’t handle the job alone, so you stay too. I have work to do.” He begins to walk toward the stairs grasping Lady by the arm, but then thinks of something else and turns toward us. “Oh, I almost forgot.”

He takes a timer out of his pocket and sets is on the floor in front of Hannah and I. “Do you see this? When this timer goes off, your daddy better be standing at the Rocky Statue tomorrow with my money in his hands. If he is, then I will let you go. And those two.” He points to Neo and Flash as he says this.

“But if not, then consider this timer as a warning of how much time you have left to live. This basement is the last place you will ever see. Because I will kill you. All of you.

Grit and Lady go upstairs, Brass and Scooter stay down watching us. I suddenly realize that it would probably be a good idea to explain things to Hannah. I wonder how much she already knows. I try to find the perfect place to begin.

“Hannah, you must have a million questions to ask me. I hope I have the answers you are looking for. To start, the guy you just met is the one that kidnapped me. His name is-“

“Kyle Pete” Hannah says before I have time to finish my sentence. “I met him yesterday. I knew that there was something not right with him, but I hadn’t thought of this.” Hannah looks at the floor, composing herself before she continues. “I also know the girl. Lydia Smiles. She goes to school with me. I didn’t realize that she was involved either.”

Tears begin to fall down my sister’s face, almost hysterically. I go over this in my mind, putting the pieces together. Grit is Kyle Pete. Lady is Lydia Smiles. This is the first time that I have heard either of them called anything besides Grit and Lady. Neo and Flash didn’t even know their real names.

“His real name is Kyle Pete?” I look over to Flash. Both he and Neo look as surprised as me. “Can you believe that Neo?” Neo shakes his head no.

I turn back to Hannah. She has wiped away the tears and continues. “What I haven’t figured out is the connection between the two of them. Or them.” Hannah looks towards Neo and Flash. She doesn’t know what I know about them, what I have learned in the past four months. So of course she would have this reaction.

I know that I should be angry with them as well, but I don’t have it in me. They have helped me just as much, if not more, than they have helped Grit. I want to explain all of this to Hannah, but Flash beats me to it.

“I know that you don’t know my brother and I well. All you know is that we helped Grit kidnap your brother. You are angry, and you have every right in the world to be angry with us. But I would like to explain some things to you, give you some answers.”

Flash clears his throat and glances at Brass and Scooter talking to each other on the other side of the room. Years ago, my brother and I became orphans. Our parents were killed on a subway from a bomb meant to kill a specific passenger by the name of Gabriel Hoff. At the time, he was the Deputy of the Philadelphia Police Department.”

Hannah looks at Flash in the eye as he says this, suspicious. But she doesn’t interrupt, just lets him continue.

“We bounced around here and there, ultimately ending up on the street. Homeless. That’s where Grit comes in. He gave us a home, he took care of us. If it weren’t for him, we would most likely be dead. But because of him, we will most likely be dead,” Flash says as an afterthought. Neo pats his brother on the shoulder comfortingly. Then he picks up where Flash left off.

“We tried several times to leave and turn him into the police, once we realized who he really was. But each attempt ended in both failure and the reassurance that Grit has a power over us which can never escape.”

“But how does that have anything to do with my brother?” Hannah interrupts to ask them. “Why would you agree to help kidnap an innocent child, whom you didn’t know anything about? You have no idea that Eli loves super heroes, or that his favorite color is green, or that he has had this crazy obsession with Spiderman since he was 5, or how it felt to have my brother there one second, then gone the next.” Hannah wipes the tears from her face furiously.

“The moment I realized Eli was kidnapped I felt all of the life drain out of me. I entire body was numb and I couldn’t think straight. And this feeling has not subsided. For four whole months.” Hannah’s eyes do not leave Flash, even when he looks away in shame.

“Hannah, I just want to apologize for all of the pain and suffering that we have caused you. I regret many things in my life, but I will never regret anything more than taking your brother from you.” Tears form in the corner of Neo’s eyes as he says this.

This time it is my sister who looks away. I know she knows he is sincere.

For a while we sit there saying nothing. But it is not silent. There is a loudness that fills the empty space between us, despite the fact that nobody is talking.

Grit opens the door and walks down the basement steps, then towards the four of us sitting next to the furnace. He points toward my sister .

“You. Come with me.” He grabs Hannah’s arm and pulls her away from me. But I can’t let go of her hand. I refuse to be separated from her again, because this may be the end as we know it.

Hannah looks at me, trying to tell me that it is okay, to let go. I eventually do, and Grit takes her upstairs with him, leaving me in the basement with Scooter, Brass, Flash, and Neo.

CHAPTER 13

HANNAH

                                Kyle Pete, also known as Grit, takes me by the hand upstairs and into the living room. “Sit down,” he commands me and points to the couch opposite him and Lydia. I sit down and stare ahead silently, waiting.

                        “Am I correct in assuming that you know about the ransom?” Grit asks me. I nod my head briskly in response, wanting nothing more than to be back down in the basement with Eli. Not having to sit here and face Grit, face Lydia. 

“And what does your father… think about it?”

“You mean is he going to give you the money?” Grit nods his head yes, this is what he means.

I think about how to answer Grit. Should I lie and say that he has agreed to bring the money tomorrow? Or should I tell him the truth? That my father refuses to hand over a penny, even if it means the death of his own child.

“My father told me that there is no way he is coughing up a cent for criminals. He said that you don’t deserve it.”  I grip the sides of the couch, trying to steady my beating heart. I am surprised at myself for even having the courage to say this to him.

                “I see. Let’s hope for you and your brother’s sake that is not the case. If I were you, I would watch that timer very closely and pray that he has changed his mind.”

                Grit looks to Lydia harshly. She gets up off of the couch and indicates for me to follow her. Back down to the basement, I assume.

                Once we reach the door that leads to the basement, Lydia stands there like she wants to tell me something, but she is searching for the perfect words. How familiar. Not the circumstances, but the search for the perfect words. I have tried to do this all of my life, without any luck.
 

                Now I have come to the realization that there is no such thing. Just say what you feel. Exactly how you feel.

                “Hannah, I just want to say… I…” Lydia looks up from the floor into my eyes. Just say it already, I think to myself and wait for her to continue

Lydia’s eyes swell up with tears, but it doesn’t make me feel sorry for her. What she did was wrong. No, it was more than wrong.

                “I am sorry for everything. But I don’t have a choice.” She looks at me through glassy green eyes. I want to leave her standing there, feeling sorry, and rush to Eli’s side. But I don’t move. Without even realizing what I am doing, I begin to speak to her.

                        “I just want to know why and how. Don’t you think I at least deserve to know?”  Lydia takes a deep breath and then begins to explain.

                 “It was April 24th seven years ago. It was my birthday and I was turning ten years old. My parents had decided to take my brother and I to a Philadelphia Flyers hockey game. We had such a great time. I still remember how noisy it was. People shouting on either side of me, including my parents.  The Flyers lost the game.”

                “After it was over, we left the rink and headed towards the parking lot where our car was parked. A hooded man ran up to us and demanded that my parents give him their wallets, jewelry, and anything else that was valuable. I guess that my parents were not going fast enough for him, because he pulled out a gun and shot them both in the chest. I ran behind a car, covered my mouth so that he didn’t hear me crying. Through the glass window of the car I was hiding behind, I watched him as he searched through my dad’s coat, my mother’s purse.”

Lydia stops for a second and I begin to think that she is unable to go on with her story. But then she continues.

“After that I went to live at an orphanage. To be honest, I was quite the trouble maker, the biggest bully there. Even when kids tried to be my friend, I rejected them with hostility. I felt angry. And I still feel angry every day of my life.. Angry at my parents for dying and leaving me alone in this world. Angry with myself for living and them dying.”

“So after a while, they orphanage where I was staying couldn’t have me any longer. I was transferred from orphanage to orphanage, without any luck of being adopted. I had accepted that fact, that no one could ever love me besides my parents, but they were already gone.”

“But then I met Grit. He took care of me, he raised me. When I was with him I felt the anger slip away, even if it was only for a few seconds. When he would touch my hand, I felt loved. When he kissed me, I felt loved. For the first time in a long time I felt loved.”

                        Lydia looks up at me surprised. She has just confessed her entire life to me. But the anger does not subside. What she did was horrible. Awful. Evil.

But I am starting to forgive her. Still, I have questions that need answered. I chose the first one that comes to mind and say it, no longer worried about finding the perfect words.

                “But what about Eli. I know that Grit wanted to ransom. But what I don’t know is how he found out about my family.”

                “Why him?” Lydia asks me. I nod my head and she takes in a deep breath. I know she has been waiting for this question to come up.

                “Do you remember at the beginning of the year, in English class, when we had to do those presentations about how we had spent our summer?” It has been a while, but I think back to the first week of school. My English teacher, Mrs. Hamilton, assigned us a project in which we were to talk about our summer. My project focused mainly on Eli and I, spending the summer with our parents in Europe.

                        Because of his work, I had explained to the class, my father had to take a trip to Europe in order to do some research. I told them how he was a lawyer for Stanford and sons, the biggest firm in all of Philadelphia.

                Eli and I had practically begged our father to take us on the trip with him. After much deliberation, and a little persuasion from my mother who also was not opposed to going, he agreed. We had a wonderful time. We went to Italy, Greece, and France. Eli and I took tons of pictures. In Italy, we got pictures of the tower of Pisa. Dozens of magnificent cathedrals. Pompeii. The Colosseum. In France, we visited the Eiffel Tower, the Palace of Versailles. In Greece we went to the archaeological site of Delphi, and also to Crete. It was a wonderful summer spent with my family.

All of a sudden I hear Lydia’s voice and am pulled back to reality.

                “Well when I heard your presentation… I told Grit about it. I am a scout. I am supposed to find the victims and then he does the rest.” Lydia takes another deep breath, as if taking in oxygen is a struggle. “Originally, he had the idea to take you. But the more he thought about it, the better he thought it would be to take your brother Eli instead, that he was the better target.”

                I look Lydia in the eyes indifferently. “Don’t you feel any remorse for all of the things that you have helped him do? And don’t you realize that he is only taking advantage of you? When you are no longer of any use to him, he is going to throw you aside without a second thought. Just like he has done with Neo and Flash. He takes in orphaned children and uses their innocence to get what he wants. And before you know it, that blamelessness and goodness is gone.”

                        Lydia looks at me, repulsed at what I just said to her. “No. That’s not true. No, Grit loves me. He loves me, I know he does.”

                “That’s not love Lydia. Not true love, at least.” Without another word, I take it upon myself to open the door and head downstairs, leaving Lydia in the kitchen in denial. Some people will never accept things and life, and there is nothing anyone can say or do to change it. I pray that Lydia is not one of those people.

                        For the rest of the day and into the night, Eli and I hold each other and cry silently, praying that our father will have the decency to bring the money tomorrow night. If he ever wanted to show us that his family comes before his work, then this is the time to do it.

Brass and Scooter remain on the other side of the room, watching the four of us insipidly. They do not talk to us and we do not talk to them. At nightfall, Grit allows them to go home. The moment they enter the kitchen, Grit locks the basement door so that we cannot escape.

                        For most of the night, Neo, Flash and I do not find comfort in sleep. But Eli does. He sleeps restlessly most of the night due to a wound in his right leg. When I discovered the wound, I hugged him and cried until the tears ran dry. With a wound like this one, he can’t survive without a doctor for more than a few days. Neo tries to reassure me that he will last at least a week, since he has been taking care of Eli. But my trust is no longer. Even in myself.

                I toss and turn but eventually get restless and go over to the timer. 14 hours left. According to calculations, that means it is approximately 4:00 A.M. 

                Flash stirs a little and then sits up straight. He notices me by the clock, rubs his eyes deprived of sleep, and walks over sluggishly.

                “How much time left?” Flash picks up the timer and his eyes widen. “14 hours. What are we going to do?”

                        I look him in the face with disbelief that he just asked this question. “Well, considering that we are locked in a basement, there’s not much that we can do.”

                        Sensing the sarcasm in my voice, he shakes his head and laughs under his breath. “No, I didn’t mean it like that. I mean what are we going to do about the ransom? You heard what Grit said. If he doesn’t get the money, he’ll kill you.”

                        “There is nothing I… I mean we… can do except wait. And what about you? He said that he would kill you guys too.”

                        Flash avoids my eyes. “Don’t worry about me. I deserve whatever punishment comes my way.”

                I don’t know what to say to this. I took at Flash; really look at him, for the first time since I got here. If I had to guess, he is barely 18 years of age. He has blonde hair and grayish bluish eyes. But for some reason I have a feeling that the countless struggles of his life has made them gray. I also notice a scar on his head, visible through his light hair, but I decide not to ask him about it. I have asked enough questions for now, heard enough stories.

                        “I was wondering something. Why did Grit bring you here. He already had Eli, so what was the point?”              

                        I ponder this for a while, think about the answer. I had asked myself the very same question a million times and finally came to one conclusion.

                “For leverage, I guess. He probably hoped that taking both children instead of one would persuade my father to hand over the money, just in case he has deciding not to. I only hope if makes a difference.” I take a deep breath and lean my head against the wall, suddenly sleepy.” For my brother’s sake,” I add, and fall asleep.

                I wake up as the first rays of sun penetrate the basement window. Without even thinking, I pick up the timer, still ticking down the seconds. Only 10 more hours to go.                      

                        I look over at Eli. He is just waking up. He opens his eyes and glances at me, holding the timer. He looks so much older for his age; he has aged in the past four months dramatically. And he is so thin that it scares me. Plus the gun wound. I feel a pang of fear enter my body. He doesn’t deserve to die yet. Not here, not now. I would do anything for him to live, even give my own life for his. But I am afraid that we are past that point. There is nothing left to do not but prepare for the inevitable.

                When three hours and 8 minutes left on the timer, we hear Grit and Lydia leave the house. The four of us sit in silence and listen as they get in the car and drive away. My heart is pounding and my mind is racing, but I am too tired and weak to calm myself down.

                        For the first time, Eli comes over to the timer and looks to see how much time we have left. Then he looks up at me. “Don’t worry Hannah. Dad will bring the money. I know he will.”

                        I sit there for a while, trying to figure out what it is that makes Eli think this way, that makes him so sure. Is he naïve? Is he in denial?

Eli takes my hand in his and smiles and I finally figure out what it is that makes Eli so sure. It isn’t naivety or denial. It is faith. Eli has always been stronger than me in than that regard.

He always has faith, no matter what. He has gone through so much, yet he never wavers in the belief that good things are still to come.  Next to his selflessness, this is what I love most about my brother.

With one hour and minutes left on the timer, I have all but pulled out my hair. I have chewed each of my nails down to the cuticle, a habit that I became free of almost two years ago, and practically carved each of our names into the cement wall with the key to unlock the chains Eli was previously wearing. There is no use for them now since Grit is keeping all of us down here, so locking the door would have to do it.

Several hours ago, when I found the key lying on the floor, my eyes lit up and I immediately thought I had found the way out. But I was wrong. The key did not work on the door, and Flash informed me that it went to the chains instead. So I sulked back down the steps and thus began the carving.

When the timer goes off, we just stare at it. Nobody wants to turn it off, but at the same time nobody wants to listen to it ring. Eventually, it stops by itself and we all let out the breaths we were holding.

Fifteen minutes after the timer goes off, we hear the car pull up the driveway. I stiffen with fear, afraid to find out.

We hear Grit enter the house, every foot step he takes as he walks through the house. I hear his muffled voice along with Lydia’s. After what feels like forever, the open the door and descend down the steps.

I look at Grit first, for a sign. Finding no hint in his face, I turn to Lydia. But like Grit, her face is expressionless.

Grit walks over to where the timer is sitting, picks it up and turns it over in his hand. Then he hands it to Lydia.

“I guess you all are wondering whether or not Mr. Oliver came with the money.” Grit looks at each of us, resting his eyes on Eli the longest. “He did.”

I let out the air I have been keeping in, and I feel the tension being released as Neo, Flash, Eli and I relax a little.

I wonder if my mother had anything to do with my father’s decision, but it doesn’t matter either way. We are going home.

I smile my first genuine smile in months and wrap my arms around my brother. I turn to Neo and Flash and see that they are doing the same. Even Lydia has a small smile on her face.

“I told you guys that I would let you go if I received the money,” Grit says to us. “But I lied.” He takes out his gun and points it at my brother. His face remains expressionless.

                Someone lets out a blood-curdling scream and I am surprised to find out that it is Lydia. She pulls on Grit’s arm and keeps screaming. “No. You promised them! Nooo, you can’t!”                      

                        Grit pushes her away and takes the safety off of the gun. Oh no, this is it. Girt looks into Eli’s eyes. Those eyes are dead. Lifeless.              

                        I see him grin and pull back the trigger. “No!” This time I am the one who screams. I see my entire life flash before my eyes. There has been love, pain, laughter, sadness.

                       
                        I fall to the ground with a thud. I see the hole in my chest where the bullet came in contact, with my body, but do not yet fill the pain. I hear screaming, crying. My vision is foggy, but I see Lydia reach behind her and grab the plank of wood. She hits Grit in the head and he falls over. She quickly takes the gun from his hand and points at him.

                        He wakes up and realizes what has happened. “You wouldn’t kill me, Lydia. Not me. I love you. Please.” Grit begins to cry then. A desperate, cowardly cry.

                        She bends down and kisses him on the cheek softly. “I’m sorry Grit. Goodbye,” she whispers to him and pulls the trigger. She lets out three bullets into his abdomen before Neo runs over to her and takes the gun from her hands.  She kneels on the ground and begins to cry.

                        Suddenly, I begin to feel the pain from the bullet. Eli runs over to me, his face covered in tears.

CHAPTER 14

ELI

                “Hannah!”

I look down at my sister. There is blood everywhere and she continues to bleed. I don’t know what to do. “Somebody call the police!” I scream into the air. Neo and Flash run upstairs as soon as I say this. And I turn back to my sister, who’s hand is cold, held tightly in mine.             

                With her other hand, she takes off the macaroni necklace that I made her ages ago, now seeming a distant memory. She holds it out for me to take. But I can’t take it; I can’t accept that this is the end.

                        As if Hannah is reading my mind, she holds it out farther to me. “Take it!” she says as sternly as she can muster.            

                        I take it from her and put the macaroni necklace around my neck. “I’ll never take it off. Except to shower of course.” I see a small smile appear on Hannah’s face. She looks at me through glassy eyes and squeezes my hand.             

                        “Eli?”             

                        “Yes, Hannah?” I look down at my sister, waiting.          

                        “If I… die today, I…” Hannah stops midway through her sentence and a scary sounding cough emanates from her. I try not to notice the drops of blood that the cough brought with it. “I w-would be content… b-because I… have you. I love you Eli. Promise me that you won’t ever forget it.”

                “I promise. Always and forever.” Hannah’s tightly held grasp on my hand begins to weaken, her breathing gets slower. Her body is so cold it makes me shiver. I feel her presence starting to fade away.

“No! Stay with me Hannah.” But it is too late. And just like that, she is gone.

Lydia comes over to me and tries to take me away from her stiff body, but I do not let her. I kick and scream until she gives up and leaves me there.

I cry over my sister’s body without ceasing. Fifteen minutes later the police arrive and I am still crying over Hannah. Mitch Hoff comes over to me with another guy. He tries to take Hannah away from me. “Don’t touch her!” I yell. But she is already placed on the cot and carried out of the house to the ambulance.

…

Hannah’s funeral is held two days later. My mother and father cry on each other’s shoulder the entire time. In addition to my immediate family, aunts and uncles, cousins, grandparents, neighbors and family friends are here along with María and her family. María stands beside me , crying silently as well.

But I do not cry. Not because I am not sad, though. No. Because it is too horrible to even cry. Tears would not begin to describe the way I feel right now. Hannah is gone. Forever. She will never get to meet our brother Jacob. Never have children of her own. And someday, when I have children, they will never get to meet their aunt Hannah.

I look around at all of the people dressed in black. I don’t doubt that they really are sad, but if only they knew the whole story. If only they knew what I knew.

As they lower Hannah’s casket into the ground, I look across the cemetery and see Lydia, Flash, and Neo are there, too. Mitch Hoff allowed them to be present for the funeral because I had practically begged him to. At first, he was loath to do it, but he saw the pain in my face and the longing for my sister, so he agreed.

My mother taps me on the shoulder, and I am pulled back to reality.

After the funeral is over, I know that I will never see them again. They will be transferred to a prison out of state and held until their trial. So I want to make sure to say my goodbyes while I have chance.

                        I say goodbye to Neo first. I thank for everything, hug him tightly. A few tears fall down his cheek, and he hugs me back. “Your sister may be gone, Eli, but she died for you. For you. Don’t you forget that.”

                Next is Flash. I hug him the longest. “Thanks for everything Flash.” He fights back the tears, but they come anyway.

                “I’ll never forget you Eli. You are a special kid. I’ll write you as often as I can, okay?”

                        “Okay.” I nod my head at Flash.

                        And then there’s Lydia. I look at her for a while, trying to get up the courage to ask her the question that has been bothering me the past two days. I need to know the answer.

“Why did you save us?” Lydia looks around the cemetery, then turns back to me and smiles.

“Because you and your sister taught me what love is. If you would have uttered the very word to me yesterday, I would have not understood the meaning- what love actually is. But now I know. What Grit and I had, that is not love. What you and your brother have, that is love.”

Lydia wipes away a tear. She moves closer to me and hugs me tightly.

After the burial, I wave a solemn goodbye and walk with my parents to the car. My leg is healing, the pain barely perceived.

We parents and I pile into the car and drive away. I look up at the sky, thinking about the 11 years that I have lived. And I think about what Neo said. As much as it hurts, he is right. Hannah may be gone, but she sacrificed herself for me. This is the greatest gift she has ever given me. I run my fingers over the macaroni necklace around my neck and smile, remembering my promise.

“Always and forever.” I repeat the word over and over. I will never forget Hannah, or what she has taught me. Many valuable things, many life lessons that I will one day teach my own children.  

Fifteen Years Later

ELI

                Frantically, I pick up a red duffle bag and start to stuff things into it. Beads of sweat appear on my forehead  yet I work without cessation. This is one of the greatest moments in my life, but somehow I am scared. Terrified, actually.

                        Once the duffle bag is full to capacity, I sling it over my shoulder and enter the kitchen where my wife Naomi is waiting for me.

We are both 26 years old. Young and petrified. I grab her hand and pull a piece of her golden-brown hair out of her eyes, place it behind her ear. She smiles but then her expression turn to a painful one, she takes her hand out of mine and places it on the bottom of her stomach. We are about to have our first child.

As I drive to the hospital, I think about my soon-to-be child. Naomi and I had decided that we did not want to know the gender. We wanted it to be a surprise. But my wife assured me that she would be content with either or. Of course we won’t know for sure until after the birth, but the very idea of having a child excites me.  

Right now, more than anything, I want to be a father. Want to hold my child’s fuzzy head in my hand. Watch them grow up and learn right from wrong, good from bad. Watch them get a good education and one day find love.              

                Naomi lets out a painful cry and squeezes my hand. “Hurry, Eli. Please.” I nod my head in acknowledgement and speed up.            

                Five minutes later we pull into the hospital parking lot and rush inside. The doctors immediately take get a wheelchair for Naomi and wheel her towards the emergency room. A nurse points toward the waiting area and looks at me.            

                “You can wait over there, sir. We will come get you right away.” The nurse follows me into the waiting room and I sit down on the chair closest to the window. Once I am seated, she disappears behind the corner. A few seconds later, she reappears with a stack of papers in her hand.              

                “This is just routine stuff. Just fill out these papers and return them to the front desk over there.” The nurse looks left, in the direction of the front desk. “It’ll keep you busy, in the meantime. If you get hungry, the cafeteria is the third door down the hall on the right.”            

                The entire time, my mind is racing with questions and anxiousness. “Will she be okay?” is the one that I ask her. 

                The nurse smiles at me and puts her hand on my shoulder. “Yes, she will be fine. There is no need to worry. Once the baby is born, we will come get you know and take you to the room where your wife is.”

                        I fill out the stack of papers in less than twenty minutes; take them to the lady at the front desk. After that I go back to sit down, suddenly dizzy. For the next couple of hours, I stare out the window silently. I do not sleep, eat, or even say a word.           

                During that time, I reflect on my life. I think about my brother Jacob. He is almost sixteen years old and is a spitting image of me at that age. Just like I had imagined, but also so much more. He has the same curly brown hair and oval face, but with my mother’s brown eyes. Next I think about my mother.

If she were her now, she would be so excited for Naomi and I. I miss her terribly. My father doesn’t talk about her much anymore, but I know he feels the same way. Ten years ago, she died during childbirth with another child. This one was a girl. She was planning on naming her Hannah. But both the she and the child did not survive.

I still write to Flash and Neo, even after all of these years. I get a letter from them about three times a year. They even visited me once, at my graduation from college.  And not long after that, in one of the letters that Flash wrote me, he talked about Grit. When the cops showed up at the house where Grit was keeping me, they identified Grit’s body. A few days later, they were able to match him up with a handful of crimes.

That was when Neo and Flash found out the truth about their parents death. He was the one that put the bomb on the subway that killed them. And Lydia discovered that Grit was the mugger who shot her parents in the parking lot after the Philadelphia Flyers game.

Then my mind turns to my sister Hannah. Even after all of these years, I can remember her face, down to the smallest detail. I think about my promise to her the day that she died. The macaroni necklace is still around my neck.

I lift up my hand and take off my wedding ring, read the small inscription to myself.

If I die today, I would be content because I have you.

“Mr. Oliver?” I turn away from the window and see a young nurse looking around the waiting room. This is it, I think to myself.

“I’m coming.” I get up and follow her down the hall. We walk for some time, and then she turns right and enters a room. I follow behind her nervously.

I walk over to the bed where Naomi is laying. When she sees me she sits up and smiles. “How are you doing, Naomi? Is everything all right?” She nods her head at me to assure that everything is fine. Ever since my mother died, I have been worried that one day my wife and child would share the same fate. I let out a long breath, take her hand in mine, and sit on the hospital bed next to her.

We sit there in silence, waiting, both too excited to even find words to describe it. Then the same nurse that showed me to the waiting area. She is holding a newborn child wrapped up in a fresh white blanket. I can see the fuzzy little head of hair from the top of the blanket, hear the smallest cry emanate from the child.

The nurse brings her over to my wife and I. Instinctively, I take the child in my arms and sit back down beside my wife. Naomi and I stare back at the luminous green eyes as they stare back. They are so big, so gentle, so beautiful. A girl.

My heart almost leaps out of my chest as I cradle my baby girl. When the nurse asks us if we had chosen a name her, I look over at Naomi. We are both thinking the same thing, we have chosen a name.

I look back to the nurse and smile. “Hannah Oliver.”

THE END

Like 0 Pin it 1