As I stand looking into the hole, my flashlight illuminates two shapes half-buried in soil, covered with a sheet. The once white sheet is now discolored, stained with something dark. The fabric droops like a protective shield over the twisted limbs. The skeletons are wrapped around each other. One of their skulls is slightly tilted as if its jaw were open to speak. The other one's head is turned away, scared. The air smells of wood and damp earth, with a faintly metallic note like rusted iron. I couldn't look away, afraid they might vanish. My grandmother's words echo: "They are going to take us away. Please help us." The anguish that was in her voice broke me. I fall to my knees, sobbing. The sadness, fear, anger, and relief all crash over me at once. Who would be this cruel to bury them in this dark, damp ground? They must be a monster. My tears are not just for my grandparents, but for my mom, her siblings, and the family that was torn apart by someone's greed.
"What is it?" Andy asks, stepping beside me. When he sees the skeletons, he staggers back, nearly tripping over my feet. "A-a-are those skeletons?" he asks, trembling. "Roxanne, step back." Andy grabs my shoulder. I hear him, but his voice felt distant; my body and mind were disconnected. All I can do is stare and keep crying.
"Skeletons?" Zeke asks, looking between us. My brain was in a fog, but I managed to nod in acknowledgment of his question. "Rocky, is this why you woke me up? Did you have another dream?" Words wouldn't form, and again, all I could do was nod. He looks over at Andy. "Hey, we need to call the police. I'll wait out here for them. Right now I need you to get her back inside. She's freezing and going into shock," Zeke says, his voice tight with worry. I don't understand how he is so calm right now. I'm a complete wreck. My mind refuses to accept what I'm seeing; it's disconnected, even though I knew this was coming.
Zeke crouches beside me, helping me up from the cold ground. He wraps his strong arms around me, resting his chin on my head, rubbing small circles on my back. His warmth steadies me. He scans the woods again as he holds me, making sure those men don't return to finish what they started. After he was sure I was calmer, he hands me over to Andy, who holds me tightly.
Zeke walks away, calls the sheriff's office, explaining the situation and what we found. The deputy on the line is surprised to learn that a grave had been found in the woods. The whole town thought that the Catalano family may have been buried there, but no one was ever brave enough to look. The deputy tells him to meet them at the tree line so he can lead them to the grave.
"Andy, can you please take her inside and make her some tea or coffee? If they need you, I'll send them to the house," Zeke says. He approaches me, gently pulling me away from Andy and kissing my forehead. "Everything will be fine. Stay warm with your dad. I love you, Rocky."
"I-i-I love you too, Z," I whisper. Andy guides me out of the woods. My body moves on autopilot, but my mind stays behind with the grave. He drapes a warm blanket over my shoulders and makes me a cup of coffee. We sit at the kitchen table in silence, listening closely to sirens and watching through the back window as Zeke leads the deputies into the woods.
We sit staring out the window for a few hours, watching people walk in and out of the woods – crime scene technicians, a coroner, and several sheriff's deputies. Finally, after what seems like forever, Zeke emerges with the coroner and his assistant, not far behind him, with a body bag between them.
I nearly knock over my chair as I jump to my feet and rush to the window. I place my hand on the cool glass and watch them disappear around the side of the house. I don't want them to take my grandparents. What if they lose or mistreat them? They deserve a proper, respectful burial. Andy quickly stands and guides me back to my chair.
"Sweetheart," Andy says softly. "There's nothing more we can do. It's in the law's hands now."
"Oh no, oh no," I whisper as tears start to form.
"What is it, sweetheart?" Andy asked, stroking my back.
"Donovan doesn't know. He has no idea we found their grave. We have to call Uncle Donovan before he finds out from someone else," I plead. I couldn't bear the thought of my uncle finding out from someone else. He deserves to know right away.
"Honey, it's 5 in the morning. Don't you think it's too early?" he asks, trying to reason with me.
"No, He has to know. It's going to break his heart," I sob.
"Roxanne, we don't know for sure it's them. We should wait for the reports," he reasons. I stare at him because I didn't need the DNA reports. I already knew who they were.
"I know who they are. Please trust me. If I explain why, you'll think I'm crazy. Please call Uncle Donovan and tell him what we found. Please," I plead again.
"Ok, ok. I'll call him. Just stay here," Andy says, sighing.
He hurries out of the kitchen, holding his phone to his ear. I pick my coffee cup back up, wrapping my hands around it. Letting the warmth seep into them. Sitting there left me too much time for thinking, especially about Uncle Donovan's reaction to the news. This only heightens my rising anxiety. Before I know it, my knee jitters uncontrollably because my nerves are fraying with each passing second, waiting for Zeke to return.
Unable to handle the tension, I abruptly get up and march to the front door. I look for Andy, but he has disappeared. Not waiting for him to return, I swing the front door open and step out onto the porch. My heart is pounding as I watch everyone scurry around in chaos. The whole situation feels utterly surreal and overwhelming.
The cold, sharp wind feels both intense and oddly welcoming as it blows against my body. As I look around, I sense someone is watching me. I instantly look across the street and lock eyes with Ted. A shiver runs down my back. He's standing on his porch, staring directly at me. His cell phone is pressed to his ear. He speaks angrily to whoever is on the other end. It's definitely not a friendly conversation. I hate how his cold, piercing gaze makes my skin crawl, yet I can't back down. At least I know where he is, and he isn't lurking outside my house.
My instincts tell me he knows why the sheriff's department is here and what we found in the woods behind my house. We already suspect he was one of the men involved in my family's disappearance. It makes me wonder whether he was behind tonight's event or at least knew who was responsible. I want to walk over and demand answers from him, but I can't. Zeke sees me and follows my gaze. He quickly jogs up the porch steps towards me. Forcing me to break eye contact with creepy Ted.
"How are you holding up?" He asks softly.
"I'm ok," I say. "Maybe a little overwhelmed. I mean, this is what I wanted to find out: where they were, but there was a small sliver of hope they survived, like Mom and Uncle Donovan."
"I know, baby," he whispers. "But at least we found them."
"Andy said we can't be sure it's them until they can properly identify them, but I can feel it in my gut that it's them," I state.
"He's just trying to make sure you don't get hurt. He really cares about you. Where is he anyway?" Zeke asks, looking around.
"He went to call Uncle Donovan for me. I wanted to let him know about what we found."
Right on cue, Andy walks out of the house and stands beside us. "I got a hold of Donovan," Andy tells us. "And I explained the situation."
"How is he?" I ask.
"He's shocked and upset, as expected. He said if it's them, he will come here to help you bury them properly. He also talked about coming here to visit you."
My stomach twists in knots. I would love for my uncle to come visit, but if he comes back, then the people involved will know he's alive and possibly try to hurt him. I can't let that happen. No more people would die in this family.
The wail of an angry engine interrupts us as Sheriff Dawson speeds into the driveway, nearly hitting one of his deputies' cars. He flings open his driver's door and quickly steps out, scanning the area. His eyes finally spot us standing on the porch. He heads straight for Andy.
"Son, are you OK?" he asks, genuine concern in his voice.
"I'm fine," Andy says. The sheriff's angry gaze turns to me.
"You couldn't just leave it alone—you had to keep poking. Now you've unleashed a whole nest of hornets. Can you handle the consequences, little girl?" His tone is full of sarcasm and anger.
"Is that a threat, Sheriff?" Zeke snaps angrily.
Andy grabs his father's arm and yanks him off the porch, pulling him away from us. They argue fiercely by his squad car until Andy suddenly throws his hands up in frustration and walks away.
After everyone leaves, none of sleep. Honestly, I was afraid to sleep, afraid another dream will come. We all stay in the living room watching the news for any coverage of the night; there was nothing.
The next few days are intense as we wait for news of the remains' identity. Uncle Donovan's called several times to check on us. He's as eager as I am to know the truth. I promise to call as soon as I know something. By the end of the third day, my patience was wearing thin. I flip my phone around in my hand, willing it to ring; nothing.
A knock on the front door startles me. I open it to see a sheriff's deputy and a man in a black suit. He definitely isn't from the Sheriff's office.
"Hi, Miss Sleighton, I'm Deputy Henderson, and this is Agent Williams. We came to talk to you about the remains you found. Is this a good time?" he asks. I open the front door wider and usher them into the house toward the living room. Zeke is still sitting on the couch. He's caught off guard when they walk in.
"How can we help you?" I ask, curious to know exactly what the visit is about. The tall man in the black suit sits down and turns to us.
"We heard you found the remains in the woods. Could you tell me how you knew they were there?" He asks.
Zeke and I exchange a look. "I woke up in the middle of the night and saw flashlights shining from the woods behind my home. I thought someone was messing around on my property, so we naturally went to see if we could catch them." I explain, leaving out my dead grandmother, who came to me in a dream and told me someone was moving their remains. I'm sure he would think I had lost my marbles and have me locked up for being psycho.
"Recently, someone has pushed to have the Catalano case reopened. Do you know who they are?" he was fishing for answers; it was apparent.
"I'm well aware of the story. It was disclosed to me when I bought the house, but more than that, I have found out I'm related to them." Zeke squeezed my leg as if to say, "What are you doing?" He was scared that if it got out, they were my family, and someone would come to kill me, too.
"How did you come to that conclusion? Your surname is different than theirs." He was genuinely curious.
"There are pictures of my mom in this house, and I found my father in a journal she left here. We did a DNA test," I explain. My safety should have been my priority, but I wanted, no, I needed answers for my family.
"Who's your father?" Agent Williams asks. I look over his face, but it remains blank, no emotions. I wasn't sure how to answer or what he is thinking.
"Andy Dawson, the sheriff's son," I say matter-of-factly.
Deputy Henderson's face was comical when he hears the news. He sits up straight, looking back and forth between us, making me uncomfortable. Agent Williams must have noticed my discomfort with the deputy. He leans over and asks him to wait outside. When he was sure the deputy was gone, he leans over towards us.
"Ok, I'll get straight to the point. We have been looking into the Catalano family's case for a long time. Donovan Catalano brought to our attention that foul play may be involved. We have also identified the remains," he states.