Her Hidden Past Page 4
Amber was fast asleep when she was awakened by whispering. She rolled over onto her side, trying to fall back asleep, but a few seconds later she heard more of it. Finally, she opened her eyes, finding herself in a queen-sized bed, under a mountain of pillows and blankets. The whispering was growing louder and sounded as though it was coming from the other side of the door. She lay in bed trying to listen as her eyes darted around, surveying the room. Light was trickling in from the window as she processed her surroundings. The room was painted violet, with white trim and light-wood flooring. She saw three doors, including one straight ahead, which Amber assumed led to the hallway where the whispers were.
The voices quieted down, and she decided to get out of bed for a more thorough look. She stepped down onto a white fuzzy rug that extended out from under the bed. Amber investigated the other doors to the right. The first was an empty walk-in closet. Behind the second door was a large bright bathroom. The walls looked freshly painted in pale purple, and the silver hangings were brand new. Amber entered to admire the bathroom. The large sink and vanity reminded her of her mother’s bathroom, and how Amber used to watch her put on her makeup. A tear fell down her cheek. She quickly blocked the memory, and focused on the present.
Amber finished up in the bathroom, and walked back into the bedroom toward the windowsill. Everything was covered in snow. Snow! And it was only the beginning of December! She had never seen snow before. It was just like it was in the movies, only prettier, and such a drastic change from the ocean she used to have in her backyard. She had a sudden urge to run out and feel snow in her hands for the first time.
The bedroom door opened slowly. Amber’s body went stiff. Rachel walked in and smiled when she saw Amber up. “You’re in Michigan.” Amber felt dizzy. “I have some clothes for you. I hope they fit. We’ll take you out shopping today, but I hope something in here will work for now.”
Amber sat down against the black pillow of the window seat, closed her eyes, and tried to let it all soak in. She was in Michigan, the state that looked like a mitten. It was halfway across the country from the west coast. The weather was strange and the time was different. She wondered how she would ever adjust.
“Whose house is this?” she asked, standing up.
Rachel smiled. “This is Greg Thompson‘s house. He’s an FBI agent based out of Detroit. He has two boys your age, and his wife, Mary, is very nice. They’ll take good care of you.”
“Detroit? Isn’t that dangerous? Am I safe here?”
“Yes, you’re very safe here. You’re not in the city, you’re in the suburbs.”
“Well, how close are we to Detroit?” she said, panicked.
Rachel laughed, “Don’t worry, you’re far enough. And Detroit is no different from any other large city.”
Amber started trembling slightly and sat back down. This was all happening way too fast. Her chest was beginning to pound from all the anxiety. Rachel walked to the bathroom and came out with a cup of water. She pulled out the pill bottle from her pocket and handed Amber two capsules.
“This will help.” Amber swallowed the pills with some water and leaned back. The window was cold on her head and she jerked forward. Rachel grinned “You better get used to that. It’s December and you have a few more months until it warms up around here.”
Amber forced a smile. She hated how Rachel could make a joke when Amber’s entire life had fallen apart. She wasn’t sure she would ever adjust to her new surroundings. Only a few minutes had gone by since she had woken up, and she already missed the beach and the sun.
“I’ll leave you to get dressed. Rachel walked toward the hallway. “I’ll be downstairs in Greg’s office, waiting. We need to start getting you acclimated.”
She closed the door, leaving Amber just standing there in her pajamas, looking around the room in disbelief. She scowled at the door Rachel had just left. Rachel treated Amber like a business transaction. What she needed was a reassuring hug.
“I don’t want a new life,” she sank to the floor, curling in fetal position as her eyes watered uncontrollably.
Several minutes later, she took a deep breath and made her way to the sink once more. She realized something she had not noticed before: The bathroom had been fully stocked for her. She brushed her teeth with the new toothbrush she found in the medicine cabinet, and washed her face with the bar of soap next to the sink. She ran her fingers through her dark brown hair, and she decided she would feel better after a long shower. Twenty minutes later, she felt a little less anxious and ready to crawl back in her new bed for comfort.
Instead, she found a pair of jeans, a long-sleeved T-shirt, and a thin, light-blue sweatshirt. The jeans were a little big in the waist and on the long side, but they would have to do for now. It was either the jeans or a pair of gray sweatpants. She opted for the nicer of the two since she would be making her first impression. Her aunt had once told her that “first impressions don’t mean anything—only everything,” and Amber had never forgotten that. She took one more look in the mirror before walking out the door.
“Deep breath,” she whispered. “Be strong.”
She opened the door to the hall, and decided to go to the right. She slowly walked down the wide hallway, stopping to look at pictures that she assumed contained the faces of her new family. The tall, strong man did not resemble her father. His face was pale in comparison to Amber’s tan father. She ran her fingers through her black hair, the same color her mom had, comparing it to the blond haired woman in the picture.
“They look nothing like my family,” she whispered to herself looking at the pictures of Ben and Gabe as she slowly made her way to the stairs. She paused at the top and listened for any indication of what the people she was about to meet were like.
CHAPTER 4