Page 82 of Coordinates of Death

Aurora climbed into her SUV and sped out of the subdivision, heading for her condo, paying no attention to whether the constable had followed. She drove into her driveway and hopped out of her vehicle, running up her steps. Aurora struggled to open her front door, then fumbled with the alarm code. Finally, the annoying beep stopped. She locked her door before slumping against the wall and sliding to the floor in uncontrollable sobs.

Why, God? Why?

She hugged her knees to her chest and rested her forehead on top, wrapping her arms around her legs in a protective shield. How could her father betray their family and then blame Aurora for Anna’s kidnapping?

Her landline rang in the distance, barely registering in her foggy brain. Her father’s mumbled voice sounded in the background, but she ignored him. She couldn’t talk to him right now. Aurora crumpled onto her side into a fetal position, continuing to cry. She couldn’t stop the tears.

Didn’t want to stop them.

Years of remorse and regret tumbled out, plunging her back into the darkness. Back into the one place she had refused to go again.

The place her mother had gone before she died. Words from her mother’s journal came tumbling into her mind.

Baby girl, remember that even though we don’t understand why bad things happen, there’s always a reason. The deeper the darkness, the brighter God’s presence shines through.

Aurora sat up. If her mother felt that way, why hadn’t she been able to pull herself out of her dark pit? And had Aurora contributed to her mother’s demise in her treatment of her that day so long ago?

If only Pam Hunt’s journal pages revealed the answers to Aurora’s questions.

Can you ever forgive me?

Her father’s question returned. Could she? Could she also forgive herself?

Or would the black hole in her heart fester and grow like her mother’s had?

She balled her hands and rose to her feet. Then she wiped her tears, determination setting in. No, she wouldn’t go there. She had to fight the darkness. Even if it meant she had to relive a time in her life she wanted to forget.

But it was the secret to moving on. Getting rid of the darkness plaguing her. Plus, somehow SBK was using it to play his sick game.

“Princess Anna, Princess Anna,” Lady Grey mimicked, then spieled off a set of numbers, interrupting Aurora’s thoughts.

Aurora stilled, every muscle in her body locking. Had Aurora heard her parrot correctly?

“Princess Anna, Princess Anna,” the parrot said again, repeating the same numbers.

Aurora hadn’t spoken the special nickname she’d given her sister for years. So where had Lady Grey heard it?

Aurora burst into the living room. “Lady, what did you say?”

“Princess Anna, Princess Anna.” She pecked at something hanging from her cage.

A piece of paper flapped from side to side at Lady’s movement.

Aurora approached and peered at the dangling object. She staggered backward and nearly lost her footing but righted herself as she realized what SBK had left her.

A page from her own teenage diary with the same numbers Lady spouted in her mimicry written in red at the bottom. Her own words screamed at her from the page.

I can’t believe she did that. Mom, you’ll pay for your betrayal. You had no right. Stay out of my life!

Aurora hissed in a breath at her teenage outrage. She had caught her mother reading her diary. Pam Hunt claimed she’d only wanted to ensure her daughter was okay after she’d told her mother about an altercation she’d had with another girl at school. But Aurora knew differently. Her mother wanted to spy. After Anna’s death, their relationship had changed. Her mother became distant and almost possessive, wanting to know her every move. At first, Aurora had understood, and because she’d felt responsible for Anna’s death, she let it go. But after a couple of years, her mother’s possessiveness had become toxic, and Aurora had had enough. That was the day she slapped her mother—the day she’d regretted ever since.

And now someone was using it against her to rehash a past she wanted to forget.

Wait—how had they gotten to her diary?

Aurora straightened and ran to her office, punching in her code. She snatched her desk key from its secret spot and fumbled to unlock the drawer. Finally, it released, and she set aside her notebooks, pushing on the false bottom. The secret panel popped open, but her diary was gone. Her pulse quickened, stealing her breath as nausea hit her like a crashing ocean wave.

SBK had not only breached her home security and stolen her diary but taught her parrot her sister’s nickname. And what did the numbers mean? She returned to the living room and examined them, tonight’s meeting coming into clear focus. SBK’s words came to mind.