Page 2 of Inception

“Uncle Karl,” I called out as he began to close the door. I waited for him to peer his head back in. “I just wanted to say thank you, you know, for taking me in. I know you didn’t have to do this.”

He stepped back into the room. “I wouldn’t have had it any other way, Jemma. This is where you belong—where you’vealwaysbelonged. With family.”

I tried for a smile. “Would it be alright if I made a long-distance call? I’d like to let Tessa know I arrived okay.”

“Of course,” he nodded. “This is your home now. You can call your sister anytime you wish.” His eyes darted over my shoulder as though something had snagged his attention.

Reflexively, I turned towards the apparent distraction. I thought I saw something flicker across the balcony window, but it was gone just as soon as my eyes settled.

“Did you see that?” I asked, turning back to him.

“Did I seewhat?”

“In the window…like a shadow or something.”

“A shadow?” His eyebrows pulled together.

“Yeah—or a figure?”

“A shadow or a figure?” he repeated, eyeing me as though maybe I’d been released from the hospital a little too early.

I wasn’t sure how to explain what I thought I just saw and the more I tried to answer him, the more ridiculous I felt about it. “You know what, never mind.” I shook my head. “I’m probably just tired from my trip.”

“Of course. Say no more,” he nodded. “Get some rest, and I’ll see you in the morning.”

I waited for him to close the door and then shifted my eyes back to the window—watching it as though it could speak to me; as though it would profess its truth.

There’s nothing out there,I told myself, hugging my arms for warmth.Just my eyes playing tricks on me…

The line rang at least a dozen times before Tessa finally picked up her phone. She sounded out of breath, like she’d been running a marathon or working out heavily…or something else. Tessa was often busy doing something else. Most of the time, I was just grateful for getting through to her at all.

“Tessa! It’s me Jemma,” I whisper-yelled into the receiver.

“It’s good to hear your voice, Jemma.” Her breathing was still labored. “How is everything at Uncle Karl’s?”

“It’s fine. I just got here,” I said speedily.

“Where are you? Can you come see me? I really need to talk to you” —I paused and looked over my shoulders, lowering my voice— “about that thing we discussed at the hospital.”

Thatthingbeing the vampires. Vampires that she seemed perfectly comfortable discussing, not at all like everyone else’s reaction (such as Suzy Carson, my former legal guardian) which basically consisted of having me committed.

My initial decision to stay in Florida after my father’s murder had been an easy one. I wanted to stay close to the people I knew—close to my friends—and since my sister couldn’t very well put her life on hold to move in and take care of me, going to live with Suzy had been the next best thing. She was the closest thing I had to a mother anyway, and I trusted her. Up until she had me institutionalized, that is.

“I know, Jemma. We’ll talk soon. I’m a little tied up right now, but I’ll try to make it out there as soon as I can. Spend some time with Uncle Karl in the meantime. I’m sure he has plenty to talk to you about.”

“Yeah, sure,” I mumbled, feeling disappointed. “He seems like a real talker.”

She laughed, the sound of it raspy yet strangely melodic. “Take care, Jemma. I’ll see you soon.”

“Right. See ya.”

If I don’t get killed by a vampire.

I woke up early the next morning to a melancholy sky that seemed to go on forever, its dull gray light encroaching itself in my room through an opening slit in the velvet curtains. Tiny particles of dust danced lazily around my face, beckoning me for my attention as they fought to stay inside the light. I watched their sway through groggy eyes, transfixed by the normalcy of it all, and for a moment, I’d forgotten my place.

Hollow Hills.

That was my place. A sleepy little town tucked away in the rangy coast of British Columbia—worlds away from the sunshine state I used to call home.

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