Page 108 of Poison Aches

Searching for that name now has resulted in numerous women, scattered all over the world. It felt like I was looking for a needle in a haystack.

That’s when I started taking programming and coding lessons. Building the right algorithm and system can do wonders for anyone, but I had a target.

I couldn’t hire a private investigator like ordinary people, my brother would find out and nix the operation. He’s already done it before and thought I didn’t know.

I also couldn’t go to the police and open a missing person report, as I found out Gramps already did that when he was alive, maybe six times after my mother broke contact with her parents.

Which meant one last resort for me. Accessing federal information. I first started with death certificates in the state of California. That yielded no results.

On one hand, I was pretty relieved that she wasn’t certified as dead, which made the probability of her being alive quite high.

But then I started thinking if she wasn’t in California, where else could she go?

So… I kinda broke into the systems of all fifty states.

This time, my stomach twists again with a vicious grip that makes my steps falter. I almost bump into a large family rushing toward their gate probably.

“Calm down,” I whisper to myself, but the words sound like a futile desperate plea that I already know won’t help.

The fact is, I’m in so much trouble right now… but then again, I have to find her.

There’s no way I can ask Samuel, though I’ve always suspected my whole life that he knows more than he lets on.

And then there’s the nightmare that I caused that resulted in Gramps dying.

The sharp, twisted pain that grips my soul this time around actually succeeds in taking my breath away that I halt to a stop in the middle of an insanely busy airport.

My chest hollows in. My back hunches over. I can feel a familiar tingle and tightening within me.

“No, not now…” I gasp.

I look up, but my vision is blurry. The shadows around me seem to be moving faster and slower all at the same time.

And then I see him.

But this is not the first time I’ve seen him.

His eyes always seem to penetrate my entire being, always cold, sharp, and accusing.

I see his face, the disappointment that tinged his eyebrows, the way his lips are pressed in a thin line.

He wasn’t a man prone to anger, but when he did get angry, it was enough to silence the entire house.

I blink and Gramps is gone.

I’m back in the airport, breathing fast and hard.

It’s been years but I still see him. And I know he hates me for cutting his long life short.

Before I realize it, a hot fat tear drops to the back of my hand.

On one hand, I really wanted to hold on to Gramps. After all, this is the only time he visits me.

I never dream about him… I just dream of drowning.

I never see him smiling… I just remember the tense silence moments before…

SNAP. OUT. OF. IT!

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