The Line That Binds Series Box Set (72 page)

His thick fingers grasped a page and pulled it close to his face. “This is a death certificate for an Ann Stockton. Died at birth, eighteen eighty-eight.” He dropped that page and grabbed another.

I held a copy of another old document. Its worn edges and fold creases had printed darker than the writing. “This one’s a birth certificate. Thomas Stockton, nineteen oh five.”

“I’m guessing she knew about the curse before she met Elise because this looks more like research.”

“That’s what I was thinking too.”

“Here’s an interesting one,” Pop said, squinting at the paper. “It says George Stockton, son of Charles and Sarah, died in April, eighteen eighty-one while being treated at the Pennsylvania State Lunatic Hospital. It looks like he was only fourteen.”

“A mental facility? He was one of Charles’ sons. He had another son, right?”

“If memory serves right, his name was Charles like his father. I’m sure we could piece together most of their family tree with all of these pages.”

I took the page from his hand and stared at the words. Some were illegible, either from messy script or fading. Cause of death was one area that I couldn’t read. “He was a young. He had to have been there because of the well. When was Alzheimer’s first discovered?”

“After the turn of the twentieth century, I believe. They probably thought a young kid with those symptoms was crazy or mentally challenged. His parents must’ve opted to send him away for treatment.”

I swapped out another page. “I can’t imagine what that kid went through.”

“Horrible things, I suspect.”

The paper in my hand suddenly felt like it weighed a ton, and sweat formed on my palms in response.
How many family members had gone through this torture?
I looked down and tried to refocus on the new page, my eyes finally settling on the name Samuel Stockton.

The patriarch.

I continued reading. “Sam Stockton died of Remitting Fever in October, eighteen sixty-four.”

“Malaria. That was one name for it back then,” Pop commented, twisting his mustache.

“The picture that LJ and I found of Charles and Sarah’s wedding was dated September eighteen sixty-four. That means his father died a month after his wedding. Maybe that had something to do with Charles marrying Sarah instead of Dahlia. His father had pressured him before leaving for war two years prior, but he refused. Maybe his sickness forced Charles’ hand somehow.”

Lines deepened in Pop’s forehead. “It’s possible. We know he didn’t have any siblings. It could’ve been his father’s last wish, or perhaps there were financial obligations that would be handled with the right marriage.”

“Shit,” I said with a sigh, imagining the pain he had to have felt making that decision.

“Look at this,” Pop said, sliding one paper aside for a better view of another. “It’s a census document for eighteen seventy.” I watched Pop’s thick finger trace down the third column, listing the family names. “No Stocktons. But here,” he said, pointing at one of the rows. “Dahlia Platt, married under Joseph Platt.” He scrolled his finger across the columns. “She was twenty-seven, and keeping house is listed under her profession.”

“So Janine tracked down Dahlia too.”

“See here,” Pop continued. “She had a son who was only a year old in eighteen seventy. Joseph Platt the second.”

“That was a few years after she had left the property.”

“She went on with her life.”

“Leaving a crap load of pain in her wake,” I said bitterly. “Is there anything else that can point us in a new direction? It’s good to know that Janine was searching for Dahlia’s information too, but it doesn’t tell us what her lead was. What was she hoping to find tracing these lines?” I pressed my palms against my head and rubbed my short hair irritably.

“I wish I knew,” Pop replied. He flipped through more pages while I paced back and forth. “Here’s her death certificate,” he said, thumbing over another page. “Physician’s certificate. Dahlia Platt. Died eighteen seventy-five of Choleric Fever. There’s no father listed, but Catherine Wentz is listed as her mother.”

“Wentz was her maiden name. That was definitely her.”

“I’m going to grab some paper to sort this out. Maybe if we connect the pieces something will turn up.”

“What about work?” I asked.

“I’ll call Simone. Randall and I got enough done today. The grounds are clean and the next wedding isn’t until Saturday.”

I sat down at the table and stared at the pages, hoping,
wishing
we’d find something that would end it all. I couldn’t accept this as LJ’s fate. I refused to let her consider this curse a penance. She didn’t deserve to lose anything.

“What do you mean inconclusive?” Dad’s voice floated down the quiet hallway.

One bare foot after another, I followed his voice to the top of the staircase.

“You said that it’s usually pretty accurate.” His voice continued its worried tone.

I stepped down two stairs and sank to a seated position, pushing my forehead to two of the thick bannister posts like I did as a kid in Summerlin. I knew we weren’t in Nevada anymore. We were in Pennsylvania. But I found myself struggling to remember how long we’d actually been here.

“I don’t understand how… So we can schedule other tests like the MRI… When? … No, it has to be sooner than that. I’ve already told you she’s… I’m trying to stay calm, but I told you before. Whatever is happening is happening fast. God, I…”

I held my breath as his body moved into sight, walking out of the kitchen with his head down, pressing his phone to his ear. He stalked a couple of steps then stopped and raked his free hand down his face before turning back toward the kitchen.

The call was about me. My second doctor’s appointment was today. It consisted of questions, a physical eval, questions, memory games, and more questions. The whole time I wondered how quickly they could reach a conclusion. How far gone was I? How much had the curse already taken? It was stripping me faster than I’d anticipated. But I didn’t regret the wishes. Whether their problems were big or small, all those people might be a little better off than they were before.

My only concern now was the end game. I hated hurting Dad and Gavin. I hated seeing Dad like this, so helpless. The worry in his eyes brought tears to mine. For once, he didn’t have all the answers. He didn’t even know the real question.

“I’m telling you,” Dad’s voice wavered as he stood in front of the kitchen entry. His shoulders started to shake and his free hand covered his eyes. “It’s going to be too late. It’s like she’s… fading away. Why is this happening to her?” His last words dropped to a whisper as he moved back into the kitchen.

I jumped up and padded back to my room, holding my focus with every bit of concentration I possessed. I had to write things down. He had to know my wishes before I lost it all. I didn’t want him holding on to me out of obligation. That wasn’t a burden he needed to carry.

A bell rang in the distance. A door bell.

I had fallen asleep.

What day is it?

Straightening my sweater and jeans, I stepped out of my bedroom and into the hall.

It’s still Wednesday.
I’d had my appointment this morning. Glancing down at the dull light coming through the front foyer windows, it had to be late afternoon.
Is Dad at work?

Ding dong.

Peeking through Gavin’s open door as I walked past, I called, “Gav?”

No response. Where was he?
Did he tell me he was going somewhere?

I trotted down the stairs and opened the heavy oak door.

Mom.

She wore a knitted winter hat with the long strands of her chocolate hair escaping below, clinging to the neckline of her wool coat. Her eyes settled on mine with an inquisitive stare. She looked good. Different, but good. I wasn’t sure what she was waiting for so I chose to speak first.

“Hey. C’mon in,” I leaned in and gave her a quick one-armed hug, inhaling her familiar flowery smell that I knew so well, yet, for some reason, felt so distant. The stinging chill of late autumn pricked at my skin as I closed the door behind her.

Something felt off, but I wasn’t sure what.

When I turned back to Mom, the look on her face had changed. Her eyes were so large I could almost count the specks of green amidst an ocean of blue. “What’s up?” I asked, wondering why she was staring at me as if I’d grown a second head.

She took a deep breath and covered her mouth with her hands.

I glanced around behind me.
Did I say something?
“What’s wrong?”

“Oh, Lila,” she whispered behind her hands as a tear fell from one eye. Her hands left her face, but she clasped them together in front of her like she was praying.

I shook my head, unable to understand what was wrong.

“I’m so sorry, honey. Your dad told me about your appointments. He told me not to come to the house, but I had to. I had to see you. I can’t believe this is happening.” She reached a hand out and slid her fingers down my cheek, cupping the side of my face while staring into my eyes.

The look there was remorseful and terrified.
What is she worried about?
Me? I’m fine here. Ever since we’d moved, things had been so much better. Without her.

Without her.
Wait. I’d forgotten it all.

“What the hell are you doing here?” I shouted, stepping out of her grasp as the confusion faded and the truth of everything she’d done flooded back into place. “What the hell are you doing in my house?”

She moved one hand back to her mouth as she choked on a startled sob. “Lila, there are some things I need to explain.”

“Get out! You don’t belong here. We are much happier without you. You… You don’t deserve to be with us!” I screamed as my own tears leaked out and I began to shake.

“Listen, please,” she pleaded, tentatively closing the distance I’d created. “I lived here my senior year of high school, before I left for Las Vegas. Aunt Janine was… she was secretive, always guarded, but very protective of me.”

I moved closer to the door. “I don’t want to hear anything you have to say. I don’t care. You chose to leave her. You chose to leave all of us!” I just wanted her out. Gone. The rawness of what she’d done to our family was reemerging, unraveling all of my emotions.

“After I’d moved out, she demanded I come back, using any and all reasons. I was distraught. I thought she didn’t care about my dreams, or the goals I’d set for my life.” She held her hands in front of her, surrendering the information to me. “After I married your father and got pregnant with you, she told me about the stone well on the property and how it’d been cursed. Aunt Janine claimed she was able to grant wishes,” Mom said with a nervous laugh. “That’s when I thought she was going crazy.

“When the Alzheimer’s symptoms started to appear, I wanted to come back to be with her, to care for her. I almost made that choice, but then she told me she’d found a way to make it all go away, and that it involved you.”

Tears rolled off my cheeks as I stood and listened with my arms crossed. Her words kept me motionless, even though I wanted to toss her out.

“That’s why I decided to stay away,” she continued. “The idea was crazy. She was crazy. And I wasn’t going to let her fill your head with any of those stories. We came back years later and I tried to talk some sense into her while your father kept you kids busy outside. She was persistent, saying that it was our duty to save our family. I still thought she was crazy.” She looked down and shook her head. “But now. You?” She blinked and quickly wiped the tears from her cheeks.

“So what are you expecting me to do with this information that you never bothered to mention before? Do you want me to thank you for protecting me?” I asked, not bothering to hide the resentment in my voice. “Or should I just thank you for failing in your effort, since you ripped our family apart and pushed us in this direction anyway?”

“With Aunt Janine gone, I thought it would be okay for you to live here,” she whispered.