Infiltrating Nocens

Tempest [A Preview Excerpt]

"They found dad's body. Get home." Her little sister's voice cracked in the brief voice mail. Robin replayed the message four times before she rocketed to her feet. Her hands shook as she grabbed her keys and left her office without an explanation. Was there anything left on a corpse after nine years?

She hailed a taxi. It was faster than walking or figuring out the bus schedule two hours earlier. The taxi driver tried to make awkward small talk, but Robin answered him with short and concise statements that led him to give up. She tipped him too much money, apologized, and slammed the door and sprinted to her childhood home. On the third step, she felt her lungs constrict. Years past and she gave up on her dad coming back through the same door she stood in front of. She had seen her sisters grow up; she had gone to college, moved out and only visited the house during the holidays. She hadn't forgotten her dad; she healed.

The oldest of three girls — one unborn at the time of her father's disappearance — her emotions were unyielding in their attempt to hold together. This was no exception. She straightened her jacket and ran a hand through her hair. She patted the sides of it down and hoped to avoid her mother's lecture about her appearance. When her eyes landed on the police officer's car out front her stomach clenched tightly. A rolling wave of nausea hit her, and she forced herself to swallow. Droplets of water landed on her face as she delayed making her presence known. She exhaled and stood up straight as she turned the doorknob. The door creaked as it always had.

"Robin?" It wasn't quite her mother's voice. Her sister, all too similar to herself nine years ago, rounded the corner and embraced her. Verena Windsor, despite her best efforts, looked exactly like her sister Robin at sixteen. They both stood somewhere between tall and average. Verena had recently chopped her long and fair hair off from the middle of her back up to her shoulders in a stylish little bob cut. Robin very much doubted that her sister remembered that she had done the same thing in high school after their father's death. Though Robin's decision had been out of mourning and rebellion, Verena's was for a school play. She wanted to 'match the aesthetic' of the character she was playing. Robin just wanted it the hell of out her face.

"C'mon, Officer Miles will catch you up," Verena's voice lacked her normal vivacious tone as she tugged gently on her sister's wrist.

Another wave of nausea hit Robin when she stepped into her mother's eat-in kitchen. It hadn't changed, as their mother had lacked the funds and ability to do any renovations after their father disappeared. They had painted the brown cabinets gray only months before and the countertops were no longer the awful smoke stained yellow, but now a faux white marble was in their place. Her father had been very proud of the improvements. Off to the left was the kitchen banquette that sat by the front windows. There had been so many mornings where she and a much-smaller Verena sat at the banquette and ate before school. Many evenings where the four of them had laughed and discussed their days while eating dinner. She remembered her mother fanning herself while holding her large round stomach and her father helping as much as he could. She remembered how empty it felt in the kitchen every day after her father's disappearance. She had stayed awake until 3 am the first night her father was missing, eating cereal at the very table where Officer Miles and her mother now sat.

Her youngest sister, Madison, sat snuggled up to their mother. Madison was the spitting image of their father. Genetics were ironic like that. The youngest Windsor had their father's dark curls, freckles, and bad eyesight. When she was a toddler, their grandmother had sobbed holding her because the similarity was eerie. Now that she was nearly ten, she had grown her hair out, but the chubby baby face didn't hide their father's features.

Verena sat by their mother, Robin leaned against the cabinetry. She tried to ignore the pain in her stomach as her eyes fell to the officer. He was younger. Younger than her, possibly, and wet behind the ears. He somewhat hunched over, a melancholy expression on his face as he stared at the manila folder that sat on the table. When her mother said something about Officer Miles, he straightened himself in his seat, flashed her a sheepish look and cleared his throat.