Mikaela's Perspective.
"Yeah, Confirmation Mikaela, Edward Miller and Peter Johnson. Both were in Juneau on the night, both were indicted for driving under the influence, operating a motor vehicle without a valid license, and fleeing the scene of an accident.
They both got slaps on the wrist anyway, probation, but Miller got into some trouble after, landing him in Pine-Crest Detention. So he has a record but PJ doesn't. The record is sealed anyway, but I can, yeah I think I can get behind that if you want me to anyway.
Just take it easy and uhm, yeah let me know."
I winced in pain as I turned in bed, contemplating the contents of Roach's message.
"Breakfast, Mikaela! Can you come down?... Never mind, I'll bring it up, love," Mum called out.
"Mmm-hmmm."
"Oh, what was that?"
"Yeah, coming. Give me a minute," I said.
"Are you sure you don't need help, honey?"
"Mum, I'm not a cripple. I'll be fine," I said, forcing myself to sit up.
I felt a sharp pain in my right arm.
"Ouch!"
"Are you alright up there?"
"Just stubbed my toe, I'm okay," I replied.
I was still wearing the same clothes I had worn the day before, so I went straight into the shower and changed into a pair of grey sweatpants and a long-sleeved top. I looked in the mirror. My face was swollen with red blotches all over and the cuts were a shade of purple. My eyes were bloodshot and my left cheek was puffy.
I heard a knock on the door.
"Come in."
"Good morning, honey."
"Morning, Mum," I replied, taking a sip of the coffee.
"Let me take a look," she said as she started to inspect my face.
"Oh my goodness, Mum, your face—it doesn't feel as bad as it looks, I promise," I commented. "...I think I'm going to take some time off anyway," I continued, pulling my face away.
"Are you quitting boxing?" she asked, attempting to conceal her joy.
"Not exactly what I said, Mum, but yeah, I guess so, at least for the time being. I've got something else to think about."
"Something else?" she began, curious. "Someone else, perhaps? A boy?"
"Oh my gosh, Mum, could you please leave already."
"I'm just saying," she said, growing a smile, "you seem at ease for the first time in a while, at peace." She tilted my neck gently, planting a kiss on the top of my head. "I just want you to be happy, Honey. I think you'll be happier outside of boxing too. I really do. Okay, I'll get out of your hair now. Let me know if you need anything; I'm home all day today."
I spent a few hours in bed, scrolling through my social media and newsfeeds. After a break, I watched a few YouTube videos, one of which was about a man claiming to have been abducted by aliens.
"What a joke," I muttered to myself.
All of it was just a way to distract myself from the burning question: What was I going to do with the information from Roach?
With a sigh, I turned around to polish off the last remnants of the sandwich. "It was a long time ago, Mikaela. Perhaps it's finally time to let it all go," I contemplated. Just one final test.
I grabbed my phone and sent a text: "Retrieve the records..."
A knot tightened in my stomach; I had a foreboding feeling about it all. I reached for the phone, attempting to delete the text, when the sudden buzz and subsequent ring startled me, causing the phone to slip from my grasp and onto the ground. I quickly picked it up and answered the call.
"This is Roach. I was hoping you'd call. I managed to retrieve the file."
"The entire file?"
"The whole thing, Mikaela. It's not looking good a whole mess."
"Send it to me. Or wait, what did he get in trouble for?"
"Two charges of Assault with the intent to commit murder, Battery, Attempted robbery, DUIs, Drug possession the complete package."
"What?"
"Yeah, all within two months too. the kid's got a criminal record resembling that of an aspiring drug lord. Didn't learn his lesson the first time."
"Is it a sealed record?"
"Not to me."
"Can you get it to me? And thank you, Roach."
"You're welcome."
"Anything on the other guy, Peter Johnson? What's his story?"
"Nothing, Mikaela, he's an NPC pretty much. I did find this, though. He grew up in an orphanage."
"Where?"
"Some place in Chicago."
"Chicago?"
"Yeah, got adopted at six. I don't know if that helps but"
"Wait, did you say six?"
"Uhm yeah. You want the name of the orphanage?"
"Sure."
"I can get it to you."
"Thank you."
"So, you're done? This is the end of the line?"
"I'll let you know."
"I'll keep an eye out."
"Thank you. Bye, Roach."
I ended the call and leaned back. A chime sounded and my phone screen lit up.
"EverPromise Haven for Children"
"Jesus Christ," I muttered. I scrolled down my contacts and stopped at the number for a few moments. With a deep breath, I made the call.
"Hello, Mrs. Karr."
"Hello, Mikaela. I didn't expect you to call."
"How are you?"
"Oh, we're fine. Thank you for asking. What about you? Your mum tells me you're a boxer."
"Yeah,..."
"Oh. Well, that's good to hear."
"Listen, Mrs. Karr. I need your help."
"Oh, of course, anything you need."
"Johnson. Peter Johnson."
"PJ?"
"Yeah... Yes. PJ,..."
"Oh my, I wasn't sure if you'd recall PJ; you two used to be as tight as a ball of macaroni."
"Did we now?"
"Oh yeah, practically inseparable, I remember. Oh, the memories."
"Could you tell me about him? I'm having some issues with my memory."
"Oh. Well, sure."
"When did he come to you?"
"He was three."
"Three."
"Yes. You came a year later, smaller than a daffodil and just as fragile. Such a strong will, though, and the two of you were practically inseparable from then on—until he was adopted, that is."
"Mrs. Karr, do you conduct DNA tests on the children at Promise?"
"Oh, dear, why do you inquire?"
"It's personal."
"I don't know how much help I could be but"
"Please, Mrs. Karr."
"Well, if it means so much to you. Yes, we do."
"Oh."
"Mikaela, are you okay, dear? You sound troubled."
"Yes, yes, I'm fine."
"Did something happen to PJ?"
"I'm not sure. Mrs. Karr, are we related? PJ and I? Is he my brother?"
"Well, now. I don't see how"
"Are we related, Mrs. Karr, biologically?"
"Now, I don't know what it is you're trying to prove here, dear, but it seems to me that the two of you have moved on and found yourselves happy lives, and"
"I need to know, Mrs. Karr."