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And he left, just like that?”
I sit behind the wheel of my car, glaring at the SUV driving painfully slow ahead of me. My boss will kill me if I’m late for work. I turn my eyes from it for a moment to glance at Austin, my co-worker and fellow apartment complex resident, sitting in the passenger seat. Cars and buildings slide by behind him.
I nod, then look back at the road. “He didn’t even tell me what to do. After half an hour, I decided the lesson was over, and I had to sort my way through that hallway of torment again. When I finally got outside the house and into my car, the gate was still closed. It was another five minutes before someone—wherever the controls are—opened it.”
Austin shakes his head. “That’s crazy, man. But if that creepy Hawksley isn’t even watching you, you should look for the lost treasure.”
I roll my eyes. These kinds of rumors are Austin’s primary source of conversation; somehow he has a never-ending supply of them. But a twinge of curiosity pops up, and I can’t resist asking about it. “Treasure?”
“Yeah. Haven’t you heard of it?”
As the slow SUV takes a turn onto another street, I press the gas and pick up speed. “Can’t say that I have.”
“Everyone says that there’s some treasure hidden inside the mansion. Some say it’s a hoard of gold, or a priceless painting, or even some kind of puzzle that only someone with the Hawksley name can solve.”
“And what do you say it is?”
He crosses his arms and leans back against the seat, smirking. “Personally, I think it’s an advanced artificial intelligence system that the Hawksley family has been building to take over the world. But the most common theory is that it’s just his family fortune, and it’s also supported by the most evidence.”
I don’t bother asking what sort of stretched evidence he may have for the theory. I start to open my mouth and let out some sarcastic reply, but I hesitate. What if there is some fortune waiting to be discovered inside the walls of the mansion? If I can sneak it out, it would be an enormous help in preparing for Eva to arrive in a couple of years. It might even be enough for us to live off the rest of our lives.
Doing my best to feign indifference, I ask, “Where do people say this treasure is?”
Austin doesn’t buy the false tone. “Ooh, so you want it too? Of course, everyone wants to get a hold of it. If you ask me, I say only someone who’s worthy will find it.”
“What do you mean by worthy?”
He runs his hand through his red hair. “Only someone who wants it for the most noble cause. No thief will uncover it.”
My hopes rise a little. My cause is noble, there’s no doubt about that. Providing for an orphaned sister? Hawksley would understand. But, I remind myself, that’s only if this wild goose chase is real. And coming from Austin, that’s highly doubtful.
But if I could get the treasure…
I only now realize that Austin has been rattling on this whole time. “…but I think that’s crazy. Isn’t it?”
“Uh-huh.”
“And some people think that baloney is true. I’m glad you see it the same way I do.”
Austin continues to recount everything he’s ever heard about the Hawksley fortune, and I listen intently while attempting to pretend like I’m not. If Austin realizes I actually care about one of his stories, he’ll start talking even more during these drives. I wonder, not for the first time, why I ever agreed to let him ride with me to work.
The stoplight just ahead of me turns yellow, and I ease to a stop. Austin continues talking—now on to the Loch Ness Monster or something—but I stop listening and my mind drifts back to my family.
Why did God take them all away? I’ll never see my parents again. Eva is, for now, trapped at my grandparents’ house until she turns eighteen in two years. I know without hesitation that she thinks as much about me as I do about her, but when she arrives, will she be disappointed? When I left a year ago on my eighteenth birthday, we agreed I would get a good job and save until she turned eighteen and came to live with me.
We both knew we could never travel exactly like we used to, but we could at least take some brief trips, reliving those childhood memories of overnight drives, sleeping in the car while the world hums quietly by outside. But even that will never happen if I can’t get a better-paying job. Teaching piano is a step in the right direction, and this treasure—this might be the answer I’ve been looking for.
I’m jolted back to the present by a persistent honking. I look around quickly, trying to determine the source.
There, past the raging river of cars, in a car of her own, sits my sister Evangeline. She’s waving furiously and smiling from ear to ear.
“Evangeline?” I mutter. What is she doing here? And driving a car, too?
Austin looks at me. “Who’s Evangeline?”
But then my surprise and confusion turns to dread as her car inches forward. The light is still red. Cars are still crossing. She’s trying to communicate with me, waving and making signs. But the front of her car is uncomfortably close to cross-traffic. I motion for her to move back, but she doesn’t seem to understand.
Time switches into slow motion.
Another driver, also not paying attention, comes along the side of the road closest to Eva.
At the last second, she looks right and sees it hurtling toward her.
I shout, but I don’t know what. All my attention is on the impending crash.
And then the vehicles collide and slide further out into traffic.
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