Billy sipped his drink with a nod. "Well, we weren't exactly married, but yes, she was Emily's mother."

  "I'm sorry," I said, addressed to the girl.

  "And you're sure she’s dead?" Julia asked.

  He exhaled while glancing at his daughter. "Positive."

  I nodded and sipped my drink. Emily was holding it back, but I saw a few tears escape her eyes. Julia saw it too and approached her. She sat down next to Emily and hugged her while the girl let her tears come out. Julia stroked her gently over her hair and let her cry. Billy finished his drink. His hands were still shaking when he put the glass down on the coffee table.

  "You two can sleep in Danielle's old room," I said, addressed to Billy. "It's the tidiest. I don't want you to go anywhere with that wound yet. Stay the night so I can check it in the morning, all right?"

  Billy nodded. "Thank you, ma'am."

  He got up with much effort, and Emily helped him walk towards the stairs.

  "What were you doing at Dawson's house anyway?" I asked as they were about to walk up. They both stopped. They shared a glance.

  "Just visiting," Billy said.

  "Did you know him?"

  Billy nodded a little cautiously. "We met briefly."

  Chapter 24

  "You think they might be trouble?"

  Julia was helping me clean up and put the plates and glasses in the dishwasher when she asked me.

  I sighed. "I don't know. But I do know that Dawson was. Any friend of his might potentially be a lot of trouble, yes."

  "They didn't sound like they were good friends."

  "True," I said and closed the dishwasher. It made a loud noise when I started it. "Maybe we don't have to care. They'll be out of here tomorrow. He said they were staying at the Siesta Motel while their car was being fixed."

  Julia shuddered. "I hate that place. So dirty. How can he have his daughter in such a place?"

  "I don't think they can afford anything better," I said.

  Julia shrugged. "Probably not." She exhaled deeply and stared out through the kitchen window.

  "Thinking about Sam?"

  She nodded. "I can't believe he isn't home yet. What if he’s out there, in the darkness all alone?"

  I put my arm around her and pulled her closer. I wanted to say that I believed he would be fine, but that would be lying and she would know. Sam really wasn't good with nature, and even if he was still alive, there was no way he would survive several nights in the swamps all alone. My safest bet was still that Greg had taken him and that they would call from somewhere far away tomorrow and tell her he was alright, that she didn't need to worry, but that his dad wanted a promise of getting custody before returning him. Something like that. To many, that was a terrible situation; to us, it was the lesser of the evils I could imagine.

  "What if he isn't?" Julia said.

  "What if he isn't, what?" I asked.

  "Alive."

  "Nonsense. Don't talk like that. Of course he’s still alive."

  Julia turned and looked me in the eyes. "How do you know? How can you sound so certain?"

  "I can because I refuse to think otherwise. I will not stop looking for him till they show me his body."

  Julia gasped.

  "I'm sorry," I said. "I didn't mean to…"

  "No. No. It's all right. Maybe it’s time I start to prepare myself for the worst. They do say that if a child hasn't turned up twenty-four hours after it disappeared, it's very unlikely that it will turn up alive, don't they?"

  I scoffed. "You watch too many detective shows, CSI-this and CSI-that. It's not real life. It happens from time to time, that kids that have been gone for a long time suddenly come back. I say you never give up. I, for one, won't. I want to know what happened to Sam and I am bringing him home somehow, someway. He is my only grandson and I am not giving up on him, ever. There you have it. Call me stubborn or hardheaded, call me whatever you want, but that's how I feel."

  Julia threw me a glance and half a smile.

  "What?" I asked as I wiped crumbs off of the counter.

  "Nothing. I just don't know what I would do without you."

  I chuckled. "You'd do just fine my girl, and you know how I know?"

  She shook her head. "Because I’m your daughter?"

  I nodded. "Because you're my daughter."

  Chapter 25

  I hadn't grocery shopped in days, so the fridge was empty when we got up the next morning. I decided we should all go to Irene's Diner and get some breakfast. Billy and Emily were starving, they told me, so I texted Danielle and Grace to meet us there. Danielle texted back that she had to stay home today and get the house in order. It annoyed me greatly since we always agreed that if there was trouble in the family, if any of us needed the others, we had always promised to be there. I even had the girls swear on it when they were younger, a hand on the Bible. It was that important to me. And now she was ditching us because her husband wanted a clean house to come home to.

  Grace said she would meet us there with Steve and they were already sitting in a booth when we arrived.

  "I ordered coffee for everyone," Grace said when we sat down.

  Billy was already walking better today and only needed a little support from his daughter. He smiled as they sat down and the coffee was served in front of them.

  "Boy, do I need that," he said.

  Irene came to our table, carrying loads of pancakes. She knew us a little too well. "Breakfast is on the house today," she said and glanced at Julia. "It's the least we can do for those who have lost people in the swamps."

  "It's too much," I said. "We don't mind paying; you’ve given so much already. Besides, there’s no need to feel sorry for us yet. The wait is tough, yes, but it's not over yet. The way I see it, no news is good news."

  Irene looked at me like I was crazy. I could tell she was about to object, but a look from me made her stop. There was no way Julia was going to start her day with this. There was still hope. Even though it was rapidly fading, it was still there, and I was going to cling to it.

  "Now, eat," I said. "We need our strength."

  Julia still wasn't very hungry, but I made her eat half of a pancake. Billy and Emily devoured at least three each.

  "There’s that guy again," Grace said and pulled my shoulder.

  I turned my head just in time to spot Whitey Pete walk inside the diner and head towards the counter. He spoke briefly with Irene at the cash register. She handed him a bag and he took it and gave her a bill in exchange. He gave her a cautious wave, then turned and walked out.

  "Has he moved back?" Grace asked. "Mom used to date him," she said to Steve sitting next to her.

  "Many moons ago," I said. "And it was only for a short while."

  I returned to my breakfast, poured syrup on yet another pancake, and dug in while wondering about Pete. Seeing him again had certainly stirred me up inside. I couldn't believe it would after all these years.

  I put my fork down and looked up. "Will you excuse me a second? I need to use the restroom."

  I elbowed my way through the crowd. The diner was always so packed. All of the town ate here, some even several times a day. It wasn't too bad today. Not like on Mondays. Mondays were the worst. That was when Webster had its humongous flea market, that it was world known for, at least according to the people in Webster. It was about the only thing the town was known for.

  "Excuse me, pardon me," I said while pushing my way through. I reached the restrooms, then continued outside to the porch, where I spotted Pete. He was standing with his bag of food in his hand, gazing into the parking lot.

  I walked up behind him. "Finding what you're looking for?"

  Pete jumped. He grumbled and turned to face me. His face froze. "Patty?"

  "Hello there, Whitey."

  At first, he smiled, but then his expression changed. "I guess I was bound to run into you at some point. And don't call me that. No one calls me that anymore."

  "Nice to see you too, Pete."

  "Yeah, well, I wish I could say the same."

  I chuckled. Pete had always been a grumpy type and that hadn't changed with age. He still looked great, though. Had all of his hair, and had definitely been working out.

  "That wasn't very nice," I said.

  "Yeah, well, with our history, I had hoped I could avoid seeing you again. But I guess I couldn't."

  "So, what you doing there, Pete?"

  "I can't seem to find my darn car," he said, growling. "It's a rental and I can never remember what it looks like."

  "Do you remember what brand it is, maybe?" I asked.

  He gestured, annoyed. "It's a car. I think it's white." He sighed. "I guess I'll just have to walk around till I find it. I really don't like walking around in a parking lot when it's this hot."

  "Yeah, well, good luck with that," I said and turned away from him. He apparently wasn't very happy to see me, so I decided I was wasting my time. Whatever we had once had together was dead and gone. No use in trying to mend the broken pieces.

  While Pete was still scratching his head, staring at the cars, I turned around and went back inside.

  Part II

  The one where Patty and Pete fight all the time

  Chapter 26

  Sam felt sick when he woke up. His stomach was hurting and he felt nauseous. He recognized the feeling and the headache that came along with it. That was how he always felt when his blood sugar was low.

  Where am I? What is this?

  He felt the walls surrounding him. They were covered in a thick gluey substance. Pointy, sticky hairs were everywhere. Darkness surrounded him, but light came in from above, in between what looked like bars. The walls next to him were dark red, the bars yellow. Looking up, Sam realized where he was, even though he found it hard to believe.

  A Venus Flytrap?

  Sam had once seen a documentary about this plant on the National Geographic channel. It had shown how it caught its prey with a trapping structure formed by each of the plant's leaves, triggered by tiny hairs on their inner surfaces. When an insect or spider crawling along the leaves contacted a hair, the trap snapped shut its clutches and trapped the animal inside, where it suffered a slow and long death.

  But that was mostly insects. How is it big enough to fit me?

  "Dad?" he called, fighting to keep the panic down.

  Sam tried to get up on his feet, but the sticky slime—or mucilage as the TV presenter had called it—caused him to slip several times before he finally managed to get back on his feet. He was dizzy from the low blood sugar and wondered when he had last eaten.

  How long have I been here?

  He reached up and grabbed the stiff hair-like protrusions—or cilia—that made sure he didn't escape. He pressed his head through them and managed to peek out.

  Then he gasped.

  What he saw outside of his prison was beyond his comprehension. Venus flytraps as far as the eye could see. Huge ones, no that's not enough, they were ginormous. All of them rising from a humongous subterranean stem that looked like a bulb. There had to be at least a hundred stems, maybe even a thousand. Each of them, he counted, had about seven leaves, or traps, attached to them. It was like an ocean of plants reaching as far as his eye could see. But it was even more than that, because they were everywhere, above him, under him, next to him.

  Oh, my God!

  Sam felt his heart sink as fear spread and hope diminished. Never had he seen such a terrifying sight. He was hyperventilating, his eyes flickering from side to side, desperate to find an escape. He grabbed the protrusions, the cilia, and tried to pull them apart, but he wasn't strong enough, especially not when feeling this feeble from lack of food for what felt like days.

  Sam screamed out loud in fear, then let go of them and let himself slide back into his trap, shutting out the light, giving up hope. Sam landed in the slimy gluey stuff and felt like his hands were stuck. He started to cry.

  "Help, Mommy, help me!"

  "Sam?"

  Sam stood up, climbed back up, and pulled his head through the protrusions once again. He screamed as he spoke.

  "Daad?"

  "Sam? Is that really you? I can't see you."

  "I can't see you either, Dad, where are you?"

  "It sounds like you're above me. Can you see anything? Can you look down?"

  Sam stretched his neck and managed to look beneath him, where he spotted the sweetest sight; that of his dad looking up at him. His father was stuck to a strange green plant, like a long pointy stick with tons of tentacles on it. It had sort of wrapped itself around him—like a pig in a freakin' blanket. Sam remembered seeing the same plant on the show on the National Geographic channel.

  "Cape Sundew," he mumbled to himself, remembering how it used its red tentacles to keep hold of its prey. Looking down at his father beneath him, it looked just like it had in the documentary when the plant had caught a fly and kept it stuck there till it slowly withered and died.

  Chapter 27

  The house that had been mysteriously crushed by a tree was quite the attraction over the next few days. Sheriff Ivan had blocked the area off to keep people out, but most people ignored it and went to touch the massive roots sticking up from the ground anyway. Just to be able to say they had felt it and that it felt sticky and gluey.

  You could still see parts of the house in between the roots and branches, but it had collapsed and there was not much of a house left. The sheriff and his men were still looking for the two bodies, Dawson's and that woman's that had been with Billy Bob, Darlene. But so far, they hadn't found either of them. When I arrived two days later, they were using chainsaws to cut their way through the thick roots and vines, but as soon as they cut one open, another one grew out and twisted itself around the remains of the house. Never had I seen Sheriff Ivan so frustrated.

  "It's like the damn thing is alive," Irene, who was standing next to me, said with a light gasp.

  "Well, it's a tree," I said. "Trees are usually alive."

  "Yeah, well of course, but you know what I mean. It's like it's…I don't know, it might sound crazy but it's like it's…thinking."

  I knew what she meant. I felt it too. Like the tree was watching us, observing us. As a matter of fact, I felt that from all the trees surrounding the town, and sometimes at night I felt like the swamps outside of town came alive, like they were breathing, living, and yes…thinking. It was nonsense, of course it was, but something was definitely off around here.

  And I was tired of not knowing what.

  The day before, I had driven out to the swamps but was stopped by a military blockage at the entrance. When I told them I needed to go look for my grandson, they told me I had to leave, that it was for my own safety. It had me very worried. What were they protecting me from? Some sort of radioactive waste or something? Even the back entrance that I had used with the girls was blocked. There was no way into the swamps anymore.

  What the heck was in there?

  Julia was living on my couch these days (I kept telling her to go sleep in a real bed, since I had plenty of them, but she wanted to stay in the living room, by the phone, dressed and ready to go in case they called) while my two other daughters had returned to their lives and husbands. Meanwhile, Julia was sinking deeper and deeper into a depression and I had no idea how to help her.

  While staring at what was left of Dawson's old house, I kept thinking about Pete. Him coming here right when all this happened was hardly a coincidence, right? It seemed impossible. As far as I knew—and I usually know these types of things—he hadn't been back here since he left for college, back when we were eighteen years old. That was more than thirty years ago. Why now, all of a sudden? When all of this was happening?

  It had to be connected somehow.

  "You think it’s asleep?" Irene asked. "I mean, it moved fast when it attacked the house, didn't it? Well, you were there, you tell me."

  I shrugged. "I…I truly don't know. But it did move fast when I saw it. Like it was growing out of the ground, but really really fast."

  "Look at those massive roots over there," Irene said and pointed. "Are they moving? They are, aren't they? Slowly. Oh, my God, it's creepy. It's like they're sneaking, slithering soundlessly across the ground. Like a snake. Am I right?"

  She was and it had me terribly worried. Tree roots didn't move like that. Not at this pace. Something was awfully wrong with them. And I knew who would know what.

  "I have to go," I said.

  "You're smart," Irene said and followed me, her steps tripping fast behind me. "I think we all ought to get away from this thing. As far away as possible."

  Chapter 28

  I had heard that Pete had rented a small house right outside of town. I wondered if it was his strong aversion to Webster that made him decide to not actually stay inside of the city limits. Like a small protest. He always hated the small town and wanted to leave, and as soon as we were done with high school, he was out of there and he never looked back. I never understood why he was in such a rush to get away from us. Not a goodbye, not anything, he was just simply gone one day.

  I loved our little town. I loved the people and the closeness of the community and as far as I remembered, so did he back when I dated him. It was our senior year and back then he had dreamt about going away to college, then coming back and teaching. He had a thing for plants already back then, and sometimes I got the feeling he preferred their company to humans. On our dates, he would always take me to some strange field and show me some flower or to a nursery where we could walk among the many plants and he could tell me all about them. I think we visited all the botanic gardens in Central Florida in the year we dated. He loved taking me there and, frankly, I liked to see his passion for these strange things. Back then, I hadn't fully understood his passion, and it seemed kind of lame to most people, but I liked to see how he lit up when talking about them.