Page 3 of Claiming Sarah

“While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping,” a melodic voice whispered in his ear, bringing fingers up to tickle his belly, laughter erupting from me. His mother smiled down at him, an odd gleam in her eyes.

“Don’t listen to them, Zaiden. Don’t listen to the voices. The ravens are liars.”

I remember her grip tightening that night, leaving bruises and the fat tears dripping down her face the next day when she saw them in the morning light. The heels of my hands dig into my eyes, forcing the memory at bay. The past keeps swiping talons at me the deeper I fall into the search for my brothers. If I didn’t know any better, madness lurked at the end of this quest, razor-sharp teeth flashing in the darkness, lying in wait. It claimed my mother long before the cancer did.

I force heavy limbs down the stairs of Dr. Bell’s home.

Raven. She reminds me of a raven with her long hair flowing across the pillow.

“The ravens are liars.”

“Are they, Mother?” I whisper into the night air, locking the door behind me with the master key I’d made earlier in the week.

I hope my mother is mistaken like she was on a lot of things. Dr. Bell remains my only link to the remaining family I have left, just out of reach.

“Find your brothers, baby,” Morgan Daniels whispered to me in her last days.

“I will, Mama,” I let the night air snatch at the words, carrying them to my mother’s ghost. My legs pound into the pavement, striding down the dark streets, blending into the shadows.

SARAH

I bolt upright, a scream trapped on the tip of my tongue, begging for release. Air catches in my lungs. Tears drip down my cheeks. My head droops and dark hair falls to curtain my face. I’m home. Cotton slides beneath the palm of my hands.

A shrill sound shatters the quiet. I reach for my cell phone with trembling hands, sniffing back tears.

“H-hello?” I croak, closing my eyes.

“You had a bad dream, didn’t you?” Nat asks, voice lacking censure. I nod, even though she can’t see it, tears continuing a steady stream. Only Natalia knows about my night terrors. They started during college, after campus police discovered my roommate had been raped and murdered in our dorm. It could’ve been me. Melatonin,Ativan, and Ambien in a healthy rotation keep the worst of it at bay.

I haven’t had an episode since Lauren finished college, my anxiety running rampant as long as she lived on campus. My lips won’t move, refusing to confess to Natalia that the cause of the episode is the persistent feeling of eyes watching me. Similar to when police found Lauren and returned her home from the clutches of Xavier, Natalia will camp in my house like I did for Lauren, acting as honorary bodyguard.

“I’m coming over. Make room. You don’t have to get out of bed. I’ll use my spare and we’ll chill together. How does that sound? Have you spoken to Lauren?” Dread spikes through me at having to tell my sister about the criminal that’s claimed my daughter’s heart.

A headache pulses behind my eyes. An insurmountable distance used to yawn between Natalia and me as kids. It took years for us to grow as women and rekindle the relationship our parents tarnished with their competitiveness and lack of insight into how a new child could make Natalia feel like an outsider. I don’t pretend to know her struggles of growing up in a home where no one looked like her. But so much has happened in the past month. All of it threatens to throw our relationship back into the abyss.

My heart wants to say, “No, I just want to be alone,” but instead, I say, “That sounds great, Nat. I’ll call Lauren after I hang up.” The lies slip off my tongue smoothly.

“Great! I’ll bring coffee. White chocolate mocha with almond milk, hold the whip?” I laugh, the sound temporarily chasing the chill in the room away. Just like my shampoo, the same one I’ve used for years, I order the same coffee every time. Routine grounds me. In healthcare, few things are within your control. Outside of work, I prefer the mundane. Repetition decreases the chances of surprises.

“Yeah,” I tell Nat, a smile curling my lips. “My usualsounds like heaven right about now.” Sinking into the feeling of normalcy, I convince myself I have nothing to worry about, that the sixth sense warning me I’m in danger is wrong.

“I can’t wait to see you,” I tell my sister before hanging up the call. Sometimes, intuition is wrong. The devil isn’t always out to get you.

3

CHANGE OF PLANS

ZAIDEN

Ididn’t mean to follow her in here. Flashing lights sting my eyes, but lowering my gaze would cause me to lose sight of Sarah. Bodies press against me on all sides as I weave a path toward my raven.

“Find the raven. Catch the raven.”

Long, dark hair cascades down her back in spirals. A black dress conforms to her body, leaving one shoulder bare. Red painted lips stretch in a permanent smile. She smiled most of the night, sitting at the long wrap around table next to another dark-haired woman with skin reminiscent of toffee, sipping drinks handed to her by the individuals behind the table.

Bar. That’s the word my brain struggles to find, grasping blindly in the murk of my mind. A pale hand lands on a wall, catching her weight. She’s too far away! Snarling, I push firmly forward, uncaring if my hood drops to expose my face. My raven needs me! She’s stumbling towards a door with a figure in a dress on it.

Bathroom. Why am I struggling to find words?

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