Little Black Book

“Katie!” My mother shouts, “Could you come down here please!” I sigh but make my way down the stairs and find her in the kitchen leaning against the island that dominates the room, reading an official looking piece of paper.

“What’s up?” I question.

“Your uncle died.” My mother states as she reads the letter.

“You don’t have siblings.” I state, crossing my arms.

She rolls her eyes and glances at me, “Apparently, your father had a brother.”

“I’ve never heard anything about him.” I reply, not that I am surprised, my mother was very close lipped about my father and anything to do with him. She did not take it kindly when he left her.

“Well it seems your father told him about you.” My mother answers her dark eyes going back to the page in her hands, “And he has left you twenty-thousand dollars in his will!”

“What?” I gape at her, that couldn’t be right. How could someone I didn’t even know about what to give me money, let alone twenty-thousand dollars? “Where do I sign?”

I reach for the paper but she holds it away from me, “Hold on! There’s a condition.”

I pull back slightly, “What kind of condition?”

“You have to go to his mansion and stay there for three days.”

“Where’s his mansion?” I question.

“Romania.” She states, her eyes widening even more, “You can’t go to Romania.”

“Why not?” I question, “I’m eighteen.”

“How are you going to afford it?” She retorts.

“If you cover it, I can pay you back with the money I inherit.” I bargain, “Please!” I grab onto her arm, “I promise I will give it all back!”

She stares at me for a long moment, while I hold my breath in anticipation, until she finally sighs, “Alright.” She caves and I squeal in excitement, “Let’s get you booked, you have to be there in two days.”

The next two days are full of hectic frantic moves to make sure everything is in order, my passport, my flights, and of course my luggage.

Finally the day comes and I fly to Romania and to my surprise, a car is waiting at the airport for me when I arrive.

“How did you know I was coming?” I ask the driver as he helps me load my luggage before settling into the back seat.

“We have been monitoring flights for those that were mentioned in the will.”

“For those?” I repeat, “You mean I’m not the only one?”

“No,” He answers, “There are four others.”

“I have cousins?” I question and after a moment’s hesitation the driver nods, “That’s cool. I’ve always wanted to know more about my dad’s side of the family.”

“Be wary of what you wish for.” The driver replies as we pull up to a mansion so big and Victorian looking that my jaw actually drops, “Welcome to the Wolinot Estate.” He gets out of the car and comes to my door, opening it for me. A man in a suit rushes down the front steps as I straighten from the car.

“Ms. Jensen?” He asks, his blue eyes twinkling in the setting sun, and I nod, “I am Hugo and we’ve been eagerly expecting your arrival.” He looks to the driver who is now removing my luggage from the trunk, “The Anders room in the west tower if you would, Lennox.” His beady eyes turn back to me, “If you’ll follow me…”

Hugo leads me into the mansion and straight through the entry way to a door off to the side that opens into a cozy room with chairs and a fireplace. There are four other people in the room who look up at our entrance.

“May I present Ms. Katherine—”

“Katie,” I interject.

“—Jensen.” He continues as if I hadn’t spoken, “This is Amy Walters,” A small girl with blonde hair and sparkling green eyes, “Kyle Mortous,” A tall brute with cropped black hair and piercing blue eyes, “Jenna Thompson,” A curvy girl with long chocolate locks and matching eyes, which is kind of off-putting, “and Fredrick Reed.” A pompous looking man with slicked-back blond hair and darker green eyes, which roll the moment Hugo introduces me.

“Another competitor here to try and win the money,” He remarks dryly and I frown.

“What do you mean? I was told I’m inheriting the money.” I reply and Jenna huffs.

“We all thought that.” She snaps.

“Yes,” Hugo chimes in, “You are. Twenty-thousand as promised. However, there is the chance of winning more.”

“How much more?” I ask looking from the four others in the room to Hugo.

“Other shares,” Hugo answers, “You can compete to steal other shares for a maximum amount of one-hundred thousand dollars.”

“If I can steal others, that means they can steal mine.” I reason and he nods, “So you are telling me that I am competing.”

“You are free to take your share and leave.” Hugo states, “However if you wish to compete not only is there a chance you can win one-hundred thousand, you will also have a chance to win this house. Stay three nights and the house is yours. You all stay, you all get your share and the deed to the house will be signed over to all of you.”

“So how do we steal other people’s shares?” I question intrigued despite myself.

“You outlast them.” He states simply with a shrug.

“You are pitting us against each other.” Amy states to which Hugo shrugs.

“Yes, but the reward will be worth it if even just one of you succeeds.” He pulls out a roll of paper from inside his coat and dramatically unrolls it before him, “If you wish to partake, just sign the scroll.”

Fredrick doesn’t even hesitate, just walks up and flourishes a pen from somewhere and signs it. The other follow suit until only I am left. Hugo holds out a pen to me, expectant. I take it and sign my name on the remaining line.

“Excellent!” Hugo gleefully exclaims, “Now if you’ll all retire to your rooms. Your escorts will show you the way.” He waves and my driver along with four others enter the room, each motioning for one of us to follow. We do and are led away to where we are to retire for the night.

My driver leads me to a room with a plaque mounted to the right that reads: Dalton Hayward.

“That sign says, ‘Dalton’,” I point out, “I thought Hugo said, ‘Anders’?”

“He did,” The driver answers, “He had me move you due to unforeseen circumstances dealing with the Anders room.” He rattles off.

“I was with him—” I start.

“Have a good night!” He interrupts and walks off down the hallway, leaving me alone. I stare after him for a moment then shrug and enter my room for the night, suddenly very exhausted.

I am awoken by my phone light as it buzzes on the table next to me. I frown, I don’t remember even pulling it out of my bag. I glance at it and see an unknown number, which I decline. I barely get to glance at the lock screen and notification of twenty-nine missed calls when that number flashes across the screen once more. I groan but accept the call.

“Hello?” My voice is groggy and full of sleep.

“Katie is that you?” A man’s voice that sounds vaguely familiar comes across the line, I sit up and swing my legs over the side of the bed.

“Who is this?” I question, “How do you know my name?”

“It’s your father.” The phone nearly slips from my hand at his words, and I am unable to even stutter. After a moment he continues, “I know you must be angry, but you must listen to me. This is important.”

“Okay.” I manage in a low breath.

“Your mother says that you went to receive an inheritance from an uncle in Romania.” He states, “She called to offer her condolences.”

So that’s how he knew how to reach me, “I did, along with four other kids. They also claim they also had an uncle who died whom they had never met.”

“That’s why I’m calling.” He states, a new urgency taken hold in his voice, “Katie, I don’t have a brother.” This time the phone does fall to the ground and I can hear my father’s voice calling my name but it’s like I’m underwater and his words are muffled. My vision swims, but a small black dot at the edge of my sight refocuses my attention. It looks to be a small book of some kind, wedged into a small crevice in the corner of my room. Forgetting my phone, I go to the corner and crouch down, pulling out the book. I flip a few pages to find list of names, always five, always crossed out, some very wore out like they were written years ago and others like months…until the last written page. I drop the book and it thumps as it hits the ground.

The other occupants of the house are in the room we started in when I go looking for them. I brandish what I’m holding at them. They all look taken aback, but I am too wound up to care.

“There are lists of names in this book.” I hold up the small black notebook for everyone to see, “And the newest ones, written only days ago from the look of the ink, are ours.” I hold up the book, the pages visible to them, “And two already crossed off.” Realization dawns on faces as Fredrick and Amy glance around and seem to notice for the first time that Jenna and Kyle are gone.

“What?” Amy questions, leaping up, “Let me see!” She holds out her hand for the book, but I hold it away from her grasp, unwilling to let the book go.

“Where are Jenna and Kyle?” I question, abruptly changing the subject.

Amy takes the bait and shrugs, “My driver said they ran off into the night.” I frown, she hadn’t seemed to notice they were missing only moments ago.

“I don’t think they ran.” I mutter aloud and Fredrick finally stands.

“This is insane!” Fredrick exclaims stalking to the door, “I am not listening to this! Goodnight!”

We watch him go then I turn to Amy, “Why were you guys awake?” I question and she shrugs.

“I just couldn’t sleep. I found my way here and found him.” She frowns, “Do you really think we’re in danger?”

“You ladies should be in your rooms.” We both jump at Hugo’s voice and see him standing in the doorway, “We don’t indulge in late night visits.” Then he is shooing us back to our rooms, the book falling from my hand as I walk as if I unconsciously drop it no matter how hard I want to hang onto it.

The next time I wake, I feel a pull in my bones and allow it to lead me to what I can only assume is the attic door. I ascend the steps and find myself frozen at the sight before me. Four white sheets drape over what can only be bodies that are precariously lain across the floor. A few more white sheets hang on the wall and urns cover every available surface. A furnace sits in the back corner, the fire inside making the room almost unbearable with its blistering heat.

I don’t see him until it is too late, “You shouldn’t be up here.” The pain is immediate. I can feel my strength wane and drop to my knees. He stands above me, the knife dripping with my blood, his face in shadow, but I know who it is. His blue eyes burn into mine as he watches my life drain away and all I could think about as I draw my last few breaths is a small black book.