Seeing Shadows (Shadows 1)

I looked at the caller ID and saw a number with an area code I didn't recognize. I almost ignored it, but thinking that it could be important for someone to be calling so late, I answered it right before it was directed to voicemail.

"Hello?"

"Caitlin?" It was a female voice I didn't recognize.

"This is Caitlin." Did telemarketers call this late and on your cell phone, no less? Did they know your name?

"Caitlin." The voice sounded relieved. "I'm sorry to call so late but I was finally able to get your number."

"Um, who is this?" I felt anxiety start to bloom in my stomach.

"It's your Aunt Brenda."

Aunt Brenda? I didn't have an Aunt Brenda. Well, that is I didn't know of an Aunt Brenda. I knew nothing about my dad's side of the family since I had never met any of them.

"Aunt Brenda?"

I heard the woman sigh heavily. "I guess George has never mentioned me."

"No," I replied slowly. "But my father hasn't really mentioned anyone in his family." This conversation felt surreal. I had an Aunt Brenda and she was calling me on my cell phone, well past a reasonable hour to call someone, especially for the first time.

"We're your family too, Caitlin," she said with what sounded like determination. "Even if George wants to deny it, you're connected to us."

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"I'm sorry," I replied, not sure I was liking where this conversation was going. As much as I disliked my father sometimes, I didn't want to listen to this woman speak badly of him. I didn't know this woman. "Is there a reason you're calling me now? How did you get my number?"

"There are more Caitlin Kiles out there than I thought," the woman said, sounding bemused. "And even after I called them all, none of them were you." It wouldn't be since we didn't have a landline in the apartment and my cell phone number wasn't listed. "I was finally able to get it from your grandmother. She had somehow wrangled it from George on one of the few occasions that he spoke to her. She convinced him that she needed it in case anything ever happened to him, but George made her promise never to use it unless it was urgent."

I had a grandmother. I had a grandmother and an Aunt Brenda. And there was something urgent. My mind whirled, trying to make this part of my reality.

"Okay, so you got my number. From my...grandmother." The word sounded alien on my tongue. "I don't mean to sound rude, but you still haven't explained the reason for the call."

"I don't think this is something I can explain to you over the phone. Not everything, anyways." She spoke cautiously, as if she was gauging how to approach me, to anticipate my reaction. I figured that was hard since she didn't know me at all. "You're in danger. Real danger. And there isn't much time."

"Danger?" I repeated, my pulse quickening. "What kind of danger?"

"Someone's trying to kill you."

**********

I went numb and my fingers almost dropped the phone at her words. I grasped it tighter, feeling as if it were my anchor in a world gone crazy.

"Is this some kind of sick joke?" I hissed. "Who the hell is this? How did you get my number?"

"Caitlin," she said softly. "This isn't a joke. I'm really your aunt. George is my younger brother. Eunice, your mother, was my best friend growing up. Did you know that? That's how she met George. After she passed away, he wouldn't let us see you anymore. He wouldn't see us anymore. Do you still have the jade elephant? Your mom and I have a matching set that we bought when we were much younger. You used to be mesmerized by it when you were little. Your mom used to put it by your bed so that you could stare at it until you fell asleep."

I felt a pang in my chest as my eyes rested on my nightstand, where a jade elephant sat about two inches tall. It was one of the few things I had from my mother, one of the few things that my father had admitted belonged to her, although it had been like pulling teeth. Was it true? Was this my aunt?

"I still have it," I whispered, barely audible. I wouldn't have been surprised if this woman, my aunt, hadn't heard me but she sucked in her breath at my reply.

"I need to talk to you," my aunt said. "In person." She paused. "I hate to admit that I know nothing about you except your age. Are you in college now?"

"Yes," I answered, not sure how to handle all of this. Her assertion that someone was trying to kill me sounded ridiculous. Did my father cut off contact with his sister because she was crazy? Then again, I was in no position to judge what was crazy and what was sane. As unbelievable as it sounded, it didn't sound so farfetched considering what I was going through.

"What school do you go to? Are you a senior?"

"Yes. I'm in a small college in Rochester." I still wasn't convinced enough to tell this woman where exactly I went to school. "Where are you calling from?"