Virginia was at the sink, washing and rinsing both glasses. She heard the door open and close, followed by her uncle's footsteps entering the kitchen.
"Yep, that boy is alright," he said.
Virginia smiled but refused to turn around to let her uncle see it. "Yeah…"
"A fine, strapping young Lad. Great character. Respectable. Gracious."
He paused for a second before adding. "And he likes you, too."
Andrew could not see Virginia's eyes, but her frozen posture told him everything he needed to know.
A little smile crossed his face. "You left the water running, Honey."
Virginia flinched. Quickly, she turned off the water, but looking down, she realized that she was not done rinsing the soap off the glasses. Quickly, she turned it back on. She blushed and shook her head, hearing her uncle chuckling from behind her.
"Oh, quit it," she bantered.
"Oh, now. Don't reject an old man's wisdom."
Still letting out some laughter, he went into the dining room to look at the damage done to his window.
Virginia finished washing and drying the dishes in her hands, placed them back in the cupboard, and walked towards the stairs. Passing the bathroom under the stairs, she stopped and remembered the diary. She looked to see if her uncle was around. Finding him distracted with inspecting his dining room window, she quickly reached into the cabinet under the bathroom sink and pulled out the diary. Grabbing the menorah on top of the sink, she blew out its flame and went upstairs, holding the diary close to her heart all the way up.
After entering her room, she shut the door and sat at her desk. The candles in the menorah were about halfway melted, and their wax began to trail down the side of the holders. She placed it on the desk and opened the diary. After scrolling through page after page, she came to where she had left off. Carefully turning its pages, she found an odd piece of paper between them. Gently, she pulled it out of the diary and looked at it closely. It had a different texture, separate from the rest of the diary.
"She must have used a different piece of paper to write her thoughts on," suggested Virginia, "and then placed it in her diary once she had the chance."
She held the letter close to the light and began to read.
It is real! This place is real! So real that I can feel it all around me. There is something here, like a call from an ancient past, like a hidden story of old. A place where fables become tangible, love becomes known, and desire finds adventure. They both fill the air of this place like the morning mist at the rise of dawn. It whispers a call to my heart. I am taken; I am seized. I am captivated by the wonder of this place. My mind is driven mad, it would seem, but my heart is made upon the foundation of truth, governed by law, and driven by passion. I am through with doubting. Alaythia is real; its effects have already spread into our world, slowly becoming how it once used to be thousands of years ago.
Virginia felt her heart racing. She felt as if she were in this place, as well. Where is Alaythia located in this area? Is it a park?
She placed the book on her desk and inserted the extra slip of paper back into its pages. Then, she ran out of her room to the stair railing.
"Uncle Andrew," she called out.
Andrew came to the center of the foyer and looked up at her. "Yes, Honey?"
"I'm going to stay at school after classes tomorrow, so I'll be home late."
"Oh? What will you be doing?"
"It's a—" she thought for a second, "research project."
"Oh, okay. What are you researching?"
"Geography and history. It's a project that covers what our region looked like back in the 1800's."
"Oh, I see! Well, just make sure you call me on your way home."
"Yes, sir. Goodnight." With that, she ran back to her bedroom.
"Goodnight, Honey."
Virginia closed her bedroom door, took the diary off her desk, and placed it inside her backpack. Before closing it, she looked at the book with one last stare of curiosity. Alaythia. It was the final word on her mind before she went to sleep that night—that and Charles.
Andrew walked to the China cabinet beside the dining room table and pulled open one of its drawers. Reaching in, he pulled out a revolver and tucked it in the front of his pant line. Reaching in again, he pulled out a flashlight. He walked over to the front door, placed his Stetson on his head, and walked outside.
He walked down the front porch steps and across the driveway to the spot Charles had pointed to. Turning on the flashlight, he shined it on the ground and looked intently at the grass, occasionally looking up around him. Stopping in his tracks, he pointed the flashlight at a particular spot. Kneeling down, he examined it closer. After stroking his index finger around its edges, he exhaled a deep breath from his nose.
"He was right," said Andrew.
Pressed into the earth before Andrew was a massive paw print the size of his chest. He stood up and saw another one, just like it, about three feet to the left and two more, just like the two front paws behind them.
Resting his palm upon the handle of his pistol, he glared intensely into the woods to his left and right, breathing heavily out his nose like a bull.
"She is not yours," he said firmly through his teeth.
Seeing nothing, he walked back into the house and locked the door.