Free The Star Child (The Star Child Series) by Stephanie Keyes

My voice rang in the empty room. The women’s retreat popped into my head like it was yesterday; I remembered her mentioning it. What type of twisted person could do that to someone else? The answer was simple: Stephen.
    More important, was there a chance that my mother was still alive? Could she still be in the world after all this time? Unable to wrap my head around that concept, I realized with shock that it was early evening and I’d obviously not noticed the passage of time. Exhausted both physically and mentally, I fell back into the chair unthinking and, though my stomach protested, sleep won out. My eyes closed against the pain of it all.
    ***
    In the dream, I stood alone on a weathered-brick road. Ahead of me, there was a long drive that was surrounded on both sides with open fields. After I’d walked about a half mile, a gray stone building appeared in the distance. From the outside, it seemed about four stories tall.
    A cylindrical tower on one side of the building gave it the look of a castle, but the contrasting sections of the building were too contemporary to mark it as ancient. This structure was probably early 1900s. A series of wrought iron fencing framed both the building and a large yard, which appeared to be overgrowing with shrubbery. This was the hospital where my mother was a patient.
    It had a derelict quality about it, what with the overgrown foliage and generally untidy appearance. Despite the fanciful tower, the building still managed to look cold and institutional. The front gates were locked, as I expected.
    With a quick backward glance, I started to walk the perimeter. My explorations took me over a wide stretch of land that surrounded the place, and it wasn’t long before I found a break in the gate. After squeezing through the narrow opening, I walked across a bricked courtyard before reaching the backdoor. It was also locked.
    A rusted fence bordered the area, dotted with welcoming signage with the words “Keep Out” emblazoned on the front in blood-red lettering. Thin wire held them in place. I walked up to the sign that seemed to have the most deteriorated supports and yanked hard. Nothing. I braced my foot in the opening in one of the links and pulled hard. Nothing.
    Placing both hands firmly on either side of the sign, I shoved my foot into the space in the fence and pulled with all I had. A metallic pop sounded the release of the sign from the fence and I came down hard on my butt. Cursing, I stood up and pulled one of the wires from an opening in the sign, before tossing the latter to the ground. I bent the wire into exactly the shape I needed. At that point, it was a small matter to pick the lock, and I was inside the kitchen.
    The place was undeniably spooky. The darkened room through which I walked was lined with shadows. It appeared as though it had been looted; everything of value had obviously been removed. It was late afternoon, but the overcast weather minimized the amount of light that filtered into the place. The flashlight on one of the counters was a welcome sight.
    Once I exited the kitchen and reached the main room, it was a bit brighter, with floor to ceiling windows on either side of the aluminum door letting in larger quantities of light. These walls were painted in cheerful pastels, as though someone had cared enough to brighten things up. Twin hallways, which seemed to lead to joint common areas, flanked the sides of a massive oak staircase. The wood was rich in color and tone, but the absence of carpet on the linoleum-covered steps took away any sense of hominess. As I looked up the stairs, I noticed several murals of nature scenes along the wall that ran the length of the first landing. Again, it was pretty obvious that someone had at least tried to make an effort to spruce things up.
    Despite my lack of desire to remain in this place, this dream, I walked up the steps, noting the patches on the walls and watermarks on the ceiling. Searching, I walked in and