Free The Hazing Tower by Leland Roys Page B

that gave her hope was that winning was not for her this time; her life was over. This time it was for someone else. This time it was for Mia.
    Rebecca hadn’t forgotten how. She started to softly cry and closed her eyes.
    • • •

Home Alone
    Nikki awoke to the sound of thunder. She used to love the sound of thunder, a storm on the horizon; now, it seemed, those feelings were back. The sound electrified her. She smiled with her eyes still closed and thought about last night. She opened her eyes and immediately saw a note on the dresser. She jumped out of bed, wearing her now favorite hot pink PJs.

    Dear Nikki,
    I need to go out for a short time.
    Please make yourself at home and rest.
    — Alex.

    That set her mood back some. Oh well, what was she expecting, that he would make breakfast for her every day? Actually she sorta was.
    She pulled on her slippers and decided it was time for some exploring. Godfried would not be here today, on a weekend, so she had the entire mansion to herself. A chill went down her back as she realized she could be a spy. And wasn’t it her right? She was in a way held captive here, actually not really it turned out, but anyway. She started to walk down the long hallway, past the kitchen. So many rooms, so many hallways.
    She stopped at the garage. This time she took a closer look. Beautiful cars. Some she knew, some she had never heard of. There was no question that the total worth must be in the millions of dollars. Then something caught her eye. She loved motorcycles, always had. And there it was, a Ducati Italian super bike in perfect condition. She walked over and sat on it. A long time ago she used to ride. She loved it, the wind in her hair, the danger, the speed. The memories rushed back as she pulled on the throttle. She laughed as she thought of herself here in her pink PJs sitting on this motorcycle.
    She hopped off and made her way back into the main house. She walked down a level to where Alex had been working last night. She walked down the long hallway and thought she remembered this was the room he had been working in. It seemed every door was locked. This one in particular had a small window. She peeked inside. It looked like a library of some sort.
    Nikki slowly turned the knob. She held her breath as the door opened. It wasn’t locked. Maybe he forgot? It actually didn’t shock her as much as she supposed it should. Maybe he didn’t care. She was sure his real secrets were locked up somewhere incredibly safe. It wouldn’t be this easy.
    She tip-toed into the room. It was beautiful. Books of every type covered all the walls. More books than she could ever remember seeing in one place. She sat in a soft chair and scanned the room. Her eyes locked onto a glass panel with what looked like smaller books inside. She pulled it open.
    Journals. There must have been hundreds, covered in beautiful leather. Were they his? She pulled one out of the middle, sat back down and started to read.

    March 24th, 1946
    Rescued a young girl today. Not more than 12 in age. She told me of her melancholy, and how she did not want to go on. I told her truthfully that I also understood this feeling, and that it can be conquered, it can go away without death. It was an especially cold winter day in the city. The girl had severe frostbite when we pulled her in.
    I hope to see her when she can take visitors. I feel it helps if one can talk about sadness, or melancholy as they seem to use the term here. I feel good about today. Even the cold weather could not pull me down today.?— A.
    Her hand was shaking as she looked through the pages. Rescue logs. Some happy, some very sad. She knew well how some rescues didn’t go as planned. You could never save them all. She was sure it was him talking. As sure as she was sitting in his chair. The years of the entries didn’t seem to shock her anymore. Something was clearly wrong, but for some reason the puzzle in her mind was starting to come together.