Final Truth

Chapter 10: The Hug and the Almost-Discovery

Cade's point of view:

A few days later I find myself standing in front of the house of Julia Lancaster, a seemingly immaculate little structure untouched and foreign to the storm damage around it.

"Alright Cade, you are to search Julia's house to see if you can find the box of powers. Leave no corner unturned; if any of the other men at the homes of Cassia, Susan, Adam, Kyle, or Peter find anything, I'll alert you at once. Get searching," Will says to me, nudging me towards the front door before he turns to go investigate other parts of the city.

The whole situation seems funny to think about in the least, knowing that Will has an entire police force out looking for this box of powers when Adam is the one that holds it hostage only a few feet beneath the main building in the city.

I gaze up at Julia's house, the house of a girl that is no doubt being tortured at the moment. I feel that I don't deserve to be in the presence of this house, knowing that it's something that Julia once found sanction in that now stands vacant. I don't want to be anywhere near it.

But remembering the act I must give off for Will, I take a deep breath and turn the doorknob and enter the house, surprised to find it unlocked.

I step inside, immediately surrounded by a feeling of emptiness at this sad little house. Elegant furniture that faces a fireplace adorns a simple living room, rich hues of dark red in a large rug and warm, cinnamon colored walls must've once given the place a feeling of coziness, but the room feels sad when there's no one to occupy it.

It's perfectly tidy, but dust has already begun to settle over the furniture and picture frames set up.

I gaze at the pictures on her walls, seeing group photos of Julia, Cassia, and Susan, one large photo of the entire group together, a few pictures of what I deduce to be Julia's family, a couple scenic photos from the once thriving woods nearby, and numerous pictures of Julia and Peter together.

Feeling pity pang in my chest, I quickly move on to the kitchen and away from the untouched living room where I know the box won't be.

Again, a room perfectly tidy with black granite countertops without one stain and cabinets with every dish placed in a specific spot and order.

A vase of forget-me-nots sits on the corner of the counter, long-since wilted and likely a gift from Peter, which would make the name of the flower painfully ironic.

Strangely, I find a broken glass on the kitchen floor and a half-dried puddle of orange juice next to it, furrowing my eyebrows at the odd sight.

Whoever was last here must've left in a hurry.

I dare not touch it, for I want to get in and out of this house as quickly as possible without disturbing anything.

I move away from the kitchen and venture upstairs, this seemingly cozy little house surprising me with how vast it actually is on the inside.

I feel stupid for even being here, for I know where the box is and that Will is likely to never see that thing again. I hate how I have to be invasive in order to tell him with a straight face that I searched every room of her house.

Swallowing my resentment, I approach a singular room at the end of a long hallway that I deduce to be Julia's, opening the door slowly and regretfully walking in.

The space is vast, bigger than any other room in the house; the walls are a strange mixture of a very light blue and soft green, giving off a feeling of safety almost. The bed is unmade with the sheets strewn out from under the mattress and half sprawled onto the floor, indicating the sleeper was likely a victim of nightmares.