Tracing Hearts by Kate Squires Page B

Julia. Um…I’m Sebastian’s friend.” I stutter my way through the first sentence, and still don't know if this is the appropriate number.
    “Julia? From America?” she asks, and I know I have the right house.
    “Uh…Yes. Hi,” I say awkwardly. “Is this Sebastian’s mother?”
    I can almost hear her smile.
    “Yes, yes it is. How are you dear? How is America?”
    “Um, I’m fine, and so is America.” I chuckle uneasily. I’m not sure what to say, as I haven’t rehearsed this at all.
    “I’m so happy to finally hear your voice. Sebastian was right. You have a lovely voice.”
    Oh my. When did he say that?
    “Thank you, Mrs. Vau—”
    “Sebastian talked about you all the time,” she interrupts. “He was the most content in those years. Every time I’d call him for dinner, he’d be writing to you.” She laughs. “Even after he got back from his trip there, the letters never stopped. I miss that time.”
    What? I never got any letters from him after he left here? She must be mistaken.
    “Yes, those were great years for me too. I have a question though.”
    “He left the letters here, you know,” she interrupts again. “The ones you sent to him. He kept them in shoeboxes underneath his bed. He wouldn’t let anyone touch them, not even so I could clean. He said they were like a lifeline to him. I always respected that.”
    He kept all of my letters? They were a lifeline? This is revelation Friday.
    “Mrs. Vaughn, have you heard from Sebastian at all? Does he still live with you?”
    She pauses, then sighs.
    “No dear. He doesn’t.”
    “Oh. Well, do you know how I can get a hold of him? He contacted me a couple times recently, but left no forwarding address or any other way to get in touch with him. I’d really like to reconnect.”
    “I wish you could, but you see, about eight months ago, Sebastian was killed in an accident while on a mission.”
    “What?” I whisper, disbelief in my voice. I cover my mouth as I’m shocked to my core.
    “I thought you knew. Oh, but then, how could you know. Yes, he was flying on a routine surveillance mission when his plane went down over the North Sea. They searched for survivors. There were none.” I hear a small sob.
    Sebastian’s dead? How can that be? He was so full of life. I can’t believe this. I feel the pressure building inside my head as I fight back tears. The sadness is overwhelming.
    “Oh, my God. Mrs. Vaughn, I’m so, so sorry. I didn’t know. The truth is, I hadn’t heard from your son for six years or so. I wrote letter after letter, but never got any in return. He stopped writing after he got back from Ohio.”
    “That’s impossible. I watched him write to you. Every week he sat at his desk and wrote page after page.”
    “Are you sure he was writing to me?”
    “Yes. Absolutely. You’re all he talked about.”
    What the hell?
    “Forgive me for the intrusion, but is there anything else you can tell me about him? I mean after he came back from visiting me? Maybe something you found odd?”
    There’s a slight pause before she remembers something.
    “Well, I always thought it was peculiar that he joined the Army almost the second he got home. His father and I didn’t understand it. He was always so dead set against being in the military. He didn’t offer an explanation either. That, and the fact that he had your email address, yet he insisted on writing letters by hand was also strange.”
    He joined the Army? He became a pilot, or something to do with flying? He wrote to me, even though I never received anything after he left? Then, what about my strange stalker? It couldn’t be Sebastian, if he’s been dead for eight months. The blood drains from my face as the realization sinks in. I have no idea as to the identity of the mysterious author. Oh, God. This isn’t good.
    “I have a favor to ask you. If it’s not too much to ask, or a financial burden, would it be all right if I asked you to send me the letters he kept?