When Night Breaks

With the holiday spirit looming thick in the North Carolina air, I had an ever present urge to speak to my mother again. After spending Thanksgiving with Samantha's family, I wanted the same thing with someone who shared the same blood. Julia Hite was the only person, to my knowledge, that could fulfill that requirement.

I walked up to the small house and rang the doorbell. After a few moments with still no answer, I knocked lightly. A boy around 10 years old opened the door with a wife eyed stare.

"Uh, is Julia home?" I asked, after seeing that the boy wasn't going to speak first.

"Yeah. Hold on," he turned his head into the home. "Mom!"

Mom?
Mom??

"Oh, Jason, hello," Julia greeted me as she told the boy to go into the house.

"Is this a bad time?"

"No, no. Come on in," she ushered me inside and offered me a seat. "Cole, honey, why don't you go and play in your room?"

The young boy, who was apparently named Cole, trotted into his room down the hallway without a word.

"Cole. Is that --"

"He's my son. He's 9."

My guess of 10 was close. As the puzzle pieces clicked together, my gaze fell on a picture frame on the end table. It was of Cole in what seemed to be a school picture.

"He looks like Jeremy," I said blankly.

"Does he?" Julia asked."

"He does," I turned back around to face her.

Why hadn't I noticed the picture the first time I was here?

"Tell me about him," she said.

"He was a brother, a best friend, a mom, and a dad all wrapped into one," I said honestly. "Jeremy watched out for me and took care of me when no one else would."

I had forgiven Julia for giving us away. I had even let go the feelings of anger from blaming her for Jeremy's death.

But, there were still times when the moon would be illuminating the world outside my window that I would feel a deep resentment towards Julia. Whenever my eyes would fade into the milky white nothingness or when my body morphed into a raging beast, Julia Hite always crossed my mind.

"Jason, I hope you know that I never stopped loving you or Jeremy."

Jason. It felt so strange to hear that name directed at me. I left that name, and that person, behind in Chicago.

"I know you did what you thought was best. Holding that against you wouldn't be fair," I replied.

"Years later, I settled down. I found someone and we got married. That's when I had Cole. His father and I ended up divorcing last year, though."

Cole wasn't even born when Jeremy died. Something about that fact didn't seem right to me.

"Mom. I'm hungry," the young child walked slowly from his bedroom into where we sat.

"Cole, we have company."

"I have to be going," I stood up and out my coat on.

"Oh, well, it was good to see you again Jason. Maybe one day we can talk some more."

"I'd like that."

Cole stood and stared at me before asking who I was. I looked to Julia for an answer.

"He's a friend of mine, sweetie. His name's Jason."

With a quick hello and no more thought, Cole trotted off into the kitchen awaiting his lunch.

After telling Julia goodbye, I walked out into the November air. The temperature had risen slightly, but my heavy coat was still necessary.

I headed towards home as the realization set in heavy on me. I had lost a brother 12 years ago and today I stood face to face with another.



Ian Westbrook's death was still being investigated by the local police department. Since no headway was being made, the State Bureau of Investigation had gotten involved. That meant not only were more people looking into the murder, but more people who are better trained and equipped were on the case.

Leo was convinced it was Nathan and Margaret McKenzie. I, however, wasn't so sure. If it were the McKenzies, why had they targeted Ian? If they were close enough to kill, why hadn't they made an attempt on my life?

It was a question I tried not to dwell on often. After running for 12 years, I knew that a threat could be lurking behind any and every corner. Elliot Springs was just a small dot on the map; a town often times looked over and forgotten. That was the lifestyle I needed: over looked and forgotten.

These thoughts and more flooded my mind as I walked down Main Street. At one point in the history of the town, this street must have thrived. But, each year crept up and settled it's cold hand on the street. There were only a few shops left, and even those could use a good dose of fixing up. Most of the street lamps still worked, but as I approached one that was burned out, I felt someone near me. The shadow from the nonexistent light seemed to crawl over the pavement and reach it's darkness to surround me.

I heard the heartbeat creeping closer. The breathing grew heavier as I turned around the face whoever was behind me. A quick shadow disappeared into the night before I even got a glimpse of who it was.

I listened closely but there was no heartbeat around me, besides from mine. Despite that, I knew I wasn't alone.