As the plane touched down in New York, Jax grasped Brooke’s hand tightly. He knew that the answers they were seeking were close. He could feel it. Looking out the tiny plane window, he was reminded of the last time he’d landed in New York.

It was the flight home from Cairo with his parents. They’d just returned from their Egyptian excavation. Jax had the beautiful U shaped pin still in his pocket. He knew his parents were looking for it, but he didn’t want to give it up. It was just so beautiful.

As they disembarked from the plane, Jax held the pin in his pocket fingering it slowly. It seemed to be getting warmer and warmer in his hand.

“Jax! You’ve been awfully quiet. Are you feeling okay?” His mother asked reaching to brush his hair from his forehead.

“Yes.” Jax continued to watch the little moving carts transporting the luggage from the plane into the airport.

“You feel hot. Henry, will you put your hand on his forehead? He’s burning up.”

His father rolled his eyes at his mother’s dramatics. He pressed his hand to Jax’s head for a moment.

“You’re right, Sandy. As soon as we get home, we should take his temperature. Jax, you sure you feel okay?” Jax became frightened by the look of alarm in his father’s eyes.

Jax nodded. Suddenly, his body was wracked with chills making his teeth chatter.

“My God, he’s got a high fever! Henry, we can’t wait. We need to take him to the ER now!”

His father knelt down peering into his eyes. Jax started to feel dizzy. His legs suddenly felt like jelly and before he knew it he collapsed to the ground.

His mother screamed as people surrounded them. His father scooped him up in his arms and rushed him through the airport. In the meantime, someone had called an ambulance.

Jax’s eyes fluttered open as he watched the flurry of activity above him. Men with white shirts were reaching over him hooking his arms up to bags and tubes. His mother was near his feet crying.

“Mommy?” He whispered. His voice was so scratchy and strange it frightened him.

“Jax, it’s okay.” His mother patted his foot.

His eyes closed again as he felt a needle poke him in the arm. He wanted to cry out in pain, but couldn’t find his voice.

Several days later, Jax awoke to find himself in the hospital. He was sitting in a hospital bed with white sheets covering him. He looked all around him to see a large TV on the wall. His favorite show, The Smurfs was blaring on the TV. His eyes tried to watch the colorful characters, but he was distracted by all the noise out in the hallway. People were walking back and forth outside his door.

He took a deep breath infusing his lungs with the aroma of alcohol and Betadine. Jax didn’t like the smell. It meant he was about to get a shot.

Glancing down at his arms, he noticed long clear tubes extending from a needle taped to his arm. He touched it with the other hand. It should hurt, he thought, but it didn’t.

Just then, his door swung open. It was his parents.

“Jax! Oh thank God, you’re awake! Henry, tell them he’s awake.” His mother with her face blotchy red from crying raced to his side.

“What happened?” His voice rasped.

“You’re okay, Jax. You had a very high fever. The doctor thinks it’s pneumonia probably brought on by the sand storm in Egypt. They think you inhaled the sand causing an infection.”

His father walked in with the doctor close behind him.

“Well, how’s this young man doing today? Decided to wake up and join us?” The doctor was a fat, jolly looking man. He reminded Jax of a Santa Claus at the mall.

“What’s wrong with me?”

The doctor flipped open his chart hanging off the end of Jax’s bed.

“Honestly, we don’t really know.”

“I thought you said it was pneumonia, Dr. Steinman.”

“We thought that was a possibility, but his x rays showed no visible signs of infection. After all the blood work came back, we still don’t really know.” The doctor smiled at Jax.

His father grimaced as he stood behind his mother.

“So, he just developed a very high fever for no reason?”

“Obviously, there was a reason, but we just don’t know what. We’ll run some more blood work today to rule out any other possibilities, but seeing his temperature is normal as of this morning it may have just been a mystery virus.”

His mother’s face was a picture of worry.

“His fever was 105 degrees for two days. Are we sure there’s no brain damage or anything like that?”

“Like I said, we’ll run a few more tests to be sure, but given the fact you were returning from a foreign country, Jax could’ve picked up any number of unknown viruses. We can begin administering antiviral medication as a precaution, but I don’t think it will be necessary. I’ll send the nurse in with his blood work order and later he’ll need to start eating. If he can hold down food and his blood work comes back normal, he will be discharged tomorrow.”

His parents looked from him to the doctor and nodded.

As soon as the doctor left, Jax looked at his parents. They appeared exhausted.

“My fever was 105 degrees? Am I okay now?”

“Yes, it was very high, but the doctor says you’re okay now. Maybe it was something you picked up while we were traveling.” His mom held his hand.

“You’re okay, kid. Besides, we have to get you back in school!”

“What? I thought I was going to finish out the year with a tutor.”

His father walked around the hospital room. The TV blared loudly as he watched his father pacing.

“We’re going to start teaching at the university again, Jax. No more traveling for a while.”

“What? But you both said you’d rather keep traveling! I thought we were going to Siberia next year. You promised I’d get to ride in a sled pulled by dogs.” Jax couldn’t mask his disappointment.

His mother smiled down at him.

“Your dad and I think it’s better if you start school here next year in a regular class. At a regular school, you can make more friends.”

“But I have friends! Rex, Tony, Cade, and Justin!”

His father shook his head.

“Friends closer to your own age.”

“But Justin is only a few years older than me!” He protested. Jax loved traveling. He thought his life was exciting. He never knew where they were going to be from month to month. The thought of staying in one place and going to school day in and day out horrified him.

“Jax, we’ve already decided. This is what is going to happen for the next few years. We signed contracts with the university.”

Jax jerked his arm away from his mother forgetting the IV was in that arm. Pain shot up his arm making him cry out.

“It’s okay. Just calm down. Don’t get so upset. You’ll like school here. Give it a chance.” His dad smiled at him.

Jax crossed his arms angrily.

“You can play baseball and soccer like you always wanted. Rex played soccer when he was a boy.” His mother reminded him.

Jax had always admired Rex, one of the university students on his parents’ archaeology team. He was a former soccer star for a team in Brazil prior to relocating to the U.S.

“Can I?”

“Of course. You’ll see. In a way, your illness was a blessing. It’s making us stay here year round so that you can go to school and play sports.”

Jax thought a moment. Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad after all.

His eyes felt heavy. He closed them for a minute to rest them.

“Let’s let Jax get some sleep. We’ll be back after lunch.” His parents both kissed him on his forehead.

As they left the room, Jax felt his leg to see if the pin was still there. He was wearing a hospital gown. His clothes were gone!

He glanced around the room and saw that his jeans were folded on the table in the corner. He wondered if the pin was still in his pocket. He wanted to get up to look, but realized he couldn’t with the IV still in his arm.

He fell back on the pillow his eyes so heavy he couldn’t stand it. His eyes closed as he fell into a deep sleep.

* * *

“Brooke, I think I’ve found them!” Jax waved his hand at her. She raced to his side.

“Steven and Marian Goldstein in Manhattan.” Brooke read aloud. She looked down to see an address listed as well.

“Do you think that’s her parents?”

“Look like it. Says they’re related to Chelsea Goldstein. There’s another name, Tristan Goldstein. I guess maybe she had a brother as well?” Jax took screenshots of the names and address.

“Could be, considering the age difference. So, what do we do now?”

“We’re driving over there now.”

“Now?”

“Why not? There’s no time like the present.”

An hour later, the couple found themselves in front of an elaborate Manhattan high rise. As they found the apartment number, they stood nervously outside the door.

A small woman with long black hair wrapped up in a bun opened the door. She was wearing a light gray maid’s uniform.

“May I help you?” She asked with a heavy European accent. Jax detected she was likely Ukrainian.

“We’re looking for the Goldstein family.”

“Yes, how can I help you?” Her dark eyes crinkled around the edges as she smiled. Jax could see into the apartment behind her. It was huge with elaborate furnishings. So, Chelsea came from a great deal of money.

“Is Mr. or Mrs. Goldstein here right now?”

“Mrs. Goldstein, she die a few years ago. Mr. Goldstein, he here now.” Her English was quite broken. Jax wondered how long she’d been in the U.S.

“Can you get him please? We’re here to ask a few questions about his daughter, Chelsea.”

“Chelsea? She not here. Just Mr. Goldstein.”

“That’s fine. We need to talk to him.”

The small woman gestured for them to come inside. She directed them to a sitting room with a small velvet chaise lounge and exquisite turn of the century furnishings.

“Wow. This place is incredible. I guess she grew up wealthy.” Brooke whispered.

“Obviously. I wonder how she got so crazy?” He mused aloud studying the authentic looking Monet painting above the hearth.

“Crazy?” A deep male voice boomed behind them. The diminutive maid scampered off down the hall.

“Hi, Mr. Goldstein? I’m Jax Paulson and this is my girlfriend, Brooke.” Jax extended his hand.

“Indeed.” He eyed Jax’s hand as he stared at the two of them.

“Why are you here?” Mr. Goldstein stood in the doorway gaping at them as if they were from another planet.

“We’re here because of your daughter, Chelsea.” Jax struggled to find his voice. The old man just glared at them. He was dressed formally in a dark gray suit and red tie.

“Chelsea isn’t here. I haven’t seen here in over ten years. She never even came to her mother’s funeral.” His lips curled into a sneer. His dark hair was peppered with silver which glinted in the light.

Jax swallowed hard.

“Sir, we’re here because Chelsea has been involved in some very frightening activities. She’s----“

Her father held his hand up.

“Stop right there, young man. I don’t have anything to do with what Chelsea does or doesn’t do. I’ve washed my hands of that girl years ago.”

The couple was taken aback by his harsh words.

“Look, Sir, Chelsea has been stalking me for months now. I’m an author---“

“---that doesn’t surprise me at all. And young man, I know exactly who you are. You write all that smut the ladies read nowadays.”

“So, you’ve heard about the stalking then?”

“Unfortunately, my son watches all that paparazzi tabloid shows. He’s been living with me since my wife died. Chelsea has always had problems, but I suspect you know that by now.”

Jax nodded.

The old man sighed. He collapsed into a large high backed chair in the corner of the room. Despite the warmth of the room, he kept his suit jacket on.

“I guess you’ll both keep bothering me until I tell you about her. Chelsea was a delight when she was a little girl. She was into ballet and tap dancing. She loved her huge room full of dolls that I gave her. Chelsea was everything my wife and I wanted in a daughter. That is, until she turned nine. That year a great deal of things changed and not for the better.” He leaned over to a corner table pulling out a cigar box.

“Would either of you care for a cigar?”

They shook their heads. Jax would’ve loved a cigarette though.

“I loathe cigarette smoke, but a good cigar is like dessert to me. These are a special blend from Cuba a former business associate gave me.” He drew the cigar beneath his nose inhaling the rich scent. He pulled a gold embossed lighter out and lit the cigar.

Blowing out a thick ring of smoke, he continued.

“When she was nine, Chelsea started complaining of hearing things. My wife and I did everything we could. We took her to the doctor to have her ears checked. She had a complete physical even had a CAT scan at the hospital. Nothing was found.”

“That must have been distressing.” Jax said recalling the trauma he’d faced when he was nine as well after returning from Egypt.

“My wife and I always enjoyed a comfortable lifestyle though not as lavish as this when Chelsea was young. We traveled often and to exotic locales.” He drew on his cigar puffing out the smoke.

“Like where?”

“Oh, all kinds of places. By the time Chelsea was nine and Tristan was twelve, we’d taken them to Paris, London, Edinborough, Dublin, Rome, Tel Aviv, Berlin, Los Cabos, Tokyo, Cairo, and even Australia.”

“Wow.” Brooke widened her eyes. She clutched Jax’s hand as she listened.

“Very interesting. What was your business, Sir, if I may ask?”

“It was for pleasure only. I was into investments, large real estate mostly. My job afforded me plenty of money and time off. But after Chelsea’s incident with Mollie….we stopped traveling. Chelsea’s care took most of our spare money.” He clutched his cigar.

“What happened with Mollie?” Jax asked biting his lip.

“Oh God, it was——” He trailed off as the front door slammed.

Heavy footfalls were heard against the marble floor in the entranceway.

A man with short dark hair appeared in the doorway. He appeared to be around Jax’s age. He too was wearing a suit.

“Terrible day. That fucking asshole Hodges still hasn’t signed the damn papers!” He dropped his briefcase on the floor.

“Who the hell are they?” He asked Mr. Goldstein.

“Friends of Chelsea’s.”

Jax and Brooke both waved their hands simultaneously.

“Not friends. She’s been stalking us.”

The man rolled his eyes.

“Oh, this is Tristan, my son. Chelsea’s brother.”

The trio shook hands.

“So, you’ve been graced with my sister’s troublesome presence. Good for you.” Tristan laughed. Brooke admired his handsome yet arrogant face. He had a Roman nose, chiseled chin, and bright green eyes.

“Not really. Your father was telling us about something that happened with Mollie---“

Suddenly, Mr. Goldstein stood up clutching his chest.

“I can’t.” He stumbled out of the room. Tristan ran after him. The couple watched as Tristan helped him up the winding staircase.

In a moment, Tristan returned.

“Is he okay? I’m sorry if I upset him.” Jax looked down. He hadn’t meant to disturb the old man.

“He’s fine. It’s a fucking stunt he pulls whenever someone asks him too much about Chelsea. Acts like he’s having a heart attack. He’s been doing it since he was in his forties. Can’t stand to talk about her.” Tristan flipped his hair back.

“If you don’t mind my asking, what happened with Mollie and Chelsea?”

“Oh, that. We were playing hide and seek. I was hiding when I heard Mollie screaming. I ran out to see Chelsea holding a huge branch over her head and beating Mollie in the head with it. I tackled her, but Mollie was hurt very badly. Chelsea fractured her skull.”

Jax felt sick. Even at the tender age of nine, Chelsea had been violent. There was no doubt in his mind that she’d killed Jessica and probably the model, too.

“Why did she do it?” Brooke asked.

“Who knows? Said she heard voices telling her Mollie was evil. Mollie had been her best friend since kindergarten! She had been fine until that day. My parents sent her away to some mental institution until she was thirteen.” Tristan fumbled in his suit jacket for a pack of cigarettes.

“Can I bum one?” Jax asked his mouth watering for a cigarette.

“Sure.”

They both lit up and exhaled the smoke. Brooke coughed waving her hand.

“The old man hates it when I smoke, but he puffs away on those damned cigars like they were going out of style.”

“So are you still in contact with Chelsea?”

Tristan shook his head exhaling his smoke.

“No. I haven’t seen her in a few years. She didn’t even come to Mom’s funeral. It’s been a mess ever since the Mollie incident. I didn’t even want to call her my sister for a while. I just didn’t get her. She always kept talking about ‘the voices’. Who the hell are these voices? I’d ask her. But she never told me.”

Tristan finished his cigarette and crushed the butt in a marble ashtray.

“I don’t know. She’s just crazy. What’s she done to you?”

Brooke bit her lip looking down.

“I’m an author, Tristan. I don’t know if you’ve heard of me. I’m Jax Paulson.”

His eyes widened.

“Oh my God, you’re kidding. I’ve seen you on TMZ! No wonder you look familiar.” Tristan beamed.

“Well, your sister has been stalking me. It’s a very long story, but a few nights ago she followed my girlfriend running her off the road nearly killing her.”

“Wow. I’m sorry to hear that, but I’m not surprised. Guess you’ve seen for yourself my sister is quite attractive. She had lots of boyfriends, but as you know sometimes things go wrong in relationships. The guy would end it and she’d start following them.”

Jax sank back into the chair. The room was becoming stiflingly hot. He felt as though he couldn’t breathe.

“Well, Tristan, there have been some deaths involved.”

Tristan paled. He gripped the arms of the chair tightly.

“Who? What happened?”

Jax cleared his throat.

“My publicist, Jessica was found dead three weeks ago shot to death in her office. It’s a long story, but Chelsea had assumed the identity of a woman working for Jessica by the name of Sarah Bender.”

Tristan sat speechless. Outside, snow began to fall swirling around the window blanketing it with white.

“Anyway, Jessica was my publicist. She came up with a plan to drum up publicity for my latest book by having someone stalk me. The woman was named Sarah Bender, a staff editor at Meridian where Jessica was employed. I assumed the woman following me was Sarah, but turns out it was your sister, Chelsea. I’m here to find out more about Chelsea as now Jessica is dead as is a model, Brianna Jaynes I had a date with about two months ago.”

“My God,” he whispered his hand covering his mouth.

“I don’t know for sure if it’s her, but it’s looking more and more like that to me. Given that she’s been using a fake name for months, I don’t know what to think.”

“What about the real Sarah Bender?”

Brooke shook her head.

“That’s another thing. We found out from her Facebook page that she hasn’t been seen for months.”

Tristan stood up and began to pace. His dress shoes clicked across the floor.

“I hate to say it, but that sounds like Chelsea. For a while after she was released from the institution, things went all right. In high school, she was actually normal. She was a pretty, popular cheerleader. We actually got along and I began to think my sister was actually coming back to me. But after college, things started to go downhill. She started complaining of hearing the voices again. My parents took her to several psychiatrists trying to find a medication that worked. Nothing seemed to help. She started missing work and not taking care of herself. She’d go for weeks without bathing.” Tristan paused lighting another cigarette.

Brooke wrinkled her nose at the thought.

“Chelsea began a sad, slow descent into madness, it seemed. The last time my parents saw her was when they went to her apartment. The landlord had called them complaining about an offensive odor coming from her place. She hadn’t been seen in days. There were reports from dozens of tenants alleging strange behavior from her.”

“Like what?” Jax asked sitting on the edge of his seat.

“Riding the elevators all hours of the night for hours at a time. Walking around carrying a necklace with an ankh symbol asking people about a pyramid.”

Brooke’s heart thudded in her chest. Chelsea was demanding to know about a pyramid when she approached her in the store the other day.

“Pyramid? What’s that all about?” Brooke asked.

Tristan shook his head.

“I don’t know. Maybe it was because my parents took us to see the Great Pyramid when we were kids. Who knew what she was thinking? Anyway, the landlord called my parents to come see if they could help her. Reluctantly, I agreed to go with them. I wish to God I hadn’t. When we got there, we could smell the atrocious odor from her apartment before we even got to her floor. After pounding on the door, the super agreed to just let us in.”

Tristan took a long drag on his cigarette and exhaled the smoke. His hands were shaking.

“When we got inside, it looked like a tornado had hit the place. Furniture was overturned and trash littered the floor. The whole place reeked of rotting meat so badly I nearly passed out. My parents were horrified. Clothes were strewn about the place, the curtains were torn from the windows. All over the walls Chelsea had scribbled pyramids and the words ‘No’ and ‘Stop’. In the kitchen, the refrigerator was full of rotting meat. I vomited right on the spot. My mother nearly fainted. We continued walking through the place looking for Chelsea.”

Tristan ground out his cigarette.

“She was lying naked on a mattress soaked in urine. The odor was so bad, oh God, I still remember it.” Tristan winced.

“My God,” Jax whispered.

“She was clutching a spoiled pork chop in her fist. No one could understand why she was doing this. She appeared not to understand why we were so upset. After getting her out of there, my parents had her sent to a mental hospital.”

Brooke’s eyes were wide with fear.

“But as always, she got out. She hadn’t hurt anyone so they couldn’t keep her. She was put on new medicine and it seemed to work. She started to be able to function again. She even got a new job, I heard. She harbored a great deal of resentment towards my parents and wouldn’t talk to them anymore.”

“That’s terrible.”

“So we all washed our hands of her. She moved out of the city and last I heard was doing well. She stayed on her meds, I guess.”

“Look, Tristan, I don’t really know what to make of all this. It sounds as though she’s had a long history of mental illness. Now she’s after me and my girlfriend. We don’t know what to do anymore. My publicist is dead. Who knows what she’ll do next?”

“I’m sorry, Jax, I wish I could help. I can give you her last known address, but we’re not in contact anymore. She’s not welcome here. Have you gone to the police?” Tristan sat down in the chair.

Brooke watched the snow accumulate on the windowsill. She feared they may run into a nasty storm if they didn’t leave soon.

“Yes, I have. They’re supposed to be checking her out, but that doesn’t exactly make me feel safe. I thought maybe you and your parents could give me insight which you have. I guess the best thing to do is just watch out for her.” Jax sighed.

“I would. She’s unpredictable that’s for sure.”

Jax and Brooke stood to leave.

“Thank you, Tristan for your time. I hope for the best.” Jax tried to smile.

Tristan nodded.

“Best of luck to you. Stay safe.”

If only it were that easy.