*June's POV*
When I came home, I was surprised to find that my mother was no where to be found. I tiptoed through the house incase she had decided to hide in a closet or around a corner, but I had been proven right. Her car wasn't into the garage either, and I hurried upstairs to Jack's room. I knocked on the door lightly, hoping that I wouldn't wake him. "Jack? Jack, it's me," I said softly, and tried to knob, turning it with ease. I walked through the threshold into his room, but found that he wasn't there.
His bed was made and the room was impeccably clean, which didn't surprise me. Jack had OCD and couldn't handle having things out of place. I checked the time and groaned. It was a quarter after nine, meaning that Jack was at school, but that did not explain where my mother could have gone off to. I ran my fingers through my hair and walked to my room. I looked around at the baby blue walls and the dark grey carpet. It had been this way since I was twelve. I had saved up the money to buy the carpet and paint from a paper route that I had started, but that job had only lasted until I was seventeen.
I had been forced to quit by my mother since Jack's accident, but that had not been his fault and he helped to pay the damages with what little money he had saved up from the birthday cards that my father's sisters, our grandparents, and distant relatives had sent him. He was the loved one, while I was the black sheep of the family. I had done pot, drank occasionally, and-of course-since I was a lesbian, I was pretty much shunned by everyone, except my mother and Jack. I plopped down on my black and white bed spread, laying there while I stared at the ceiling, my mind wandering freely.
I heard a knock at the front door and sluggishly descended the steps, fixing my hair incase it was someone who had come over to hang out. When I answer the door, I froze. It was Morris Sherman, the man who had been searching for me for over a year. He gave me a kind smile, unaware that I knew exactly who he was. "Hello, young lady," he said, his smile unwavering. "I'm looking for Adelaide Crowley, is she home?" I raised a brow and he caught sight of my lip ring, looking uncomfortable, almost as if he wanted to say something to me. I forced a smile and leaned against the doorway.
"No, I'm sorry," I said, forcing the kind tone in my voice. "you just missed her. Can I take a message?" He looked uncomfortable and the corners of his mouth twitched.
"No, no. I'm just looking for her is all." I tilted my head to the side.
"Are you sure? I mean, you came all this way just to find my mother?" His eyes widened slightly, but returned to their normal size.
"Um...yes. Yes, I did." I pursed my lips, taking a quick up and down glance.
"Really? You sure you weren't looking for me?" His face fell and he looked around, frightened.
"I beg your pardon?" He was trying to play it off. "You're just a child. Why would I be looking for you?" I smirked, enjoying the fact that I could make someone this nervous. I crossed my arms over my chest.
"Well, Mr. Sherman," he flinched at my use of his name. "I happen to have friends who know how to look for people like you. What do you want with my mother and why did you come all the way here from Carsen just to find me?" The man turned panicky, sweat dripping down his brow. "You look nervous? Is that because of me?" He gulped and glanced around again.
"Look, I don't know what your mother told you, but-" I held my hand up as I interrupted him.
"My mother mentioned nothing about you, believe me. I saw your rental car parked in front of my house. I have some private investigators friends of my own. Now, before I call the cops and get you arrested for stalking, tell me why you have been looking for me." The man sighed heavily and turned around completely, taking a few steps before turning around again, still sweating like a hog.
