Samantha Harper wasn't fond of academic courses. She was an art major and couldn't wait to share her graphic color strokes with the world. She'd have to get better first, and science and math classes weren't going to cut it, according to her. Struggling to receive her college degree to fulfill her lifelong dream, she dreaded English composition. Her father, Mark Grayson, was the writer in the family.

"Now then," Mr. Kahoun announced, "research paper is due after spring break."

The students groaned.

"That gives you a couple of weeks. You may pick any subject that isn't news related."

"Whaaaaaaat?" Josh Goodman shouted out. "What are we supposed to do then? If it's not news related, does that mean it's not true?"

Laughter erupted, but Sam kept a straight face. Josh was her best friend, and he had taken the words right out of her mouth.

"Joshua, please. It can mean researching a certain TV show or music group."

"Oh, biography related?" Josh asked. "That's news, sort of."

Mr. Kahoun glared at Josh before complimenting his example. "Biography related is a good way to explain it, but you can also research a breed of dog, how a certain business got off the ground, or your family tree."

Samantha's face lit up. She had been working on her tree for a few months and was becoming obsessed with it. She already knew many things about her mother's childhood and was working on more. She was suddenly interested in this assignment.

"What I don't want is politics, murder, crap that we see every night on the news."

A couple of people giggled.

"Do you understand now?" "Yes, sir," Josh said.

"I do want everyone to run their idea by me first, though."

Students started rambling to each other on what they wanted to write about.

"I'm doing how the show Breaking Bad started out. That show is badass!" Stan Bradford called out to Mr. Kahoun.

"Can we research how pizza originated? I wanna do that!" Melissa Williams asked.

"Sure you can," Mr. Kahoun approved. "But do this quietly, people!" He clapped his hands. "You may come up and let me know privately what you are interested in researching if you wish. I will say this, though: the more in depth your paper is, the better the grade." He went on to explain the word count and what all had to be instructed.

Samantha was so excited. Her father hadn't been able to help her much, since he didn't know her mother that well, but maybe now he would put more effort into it. Her mother, Rebecca, had had a one-night stand with her father and had never seen him again. When Rebecca had died in a car accident after Sam turned sixteen, Sam had had to live with her father. She had known who he was, and her mother had answered all the questions that she could about Mark Grayson, but he had been a stranger to Samantha. She hadn't even talked to him on the phone, let alone live with him. It had either been that or go into child protective services, though, and she had begged her father not to make her resort to that kind of life.

She was more like her father, and he could tell when they met. They had the same dark, naturally curly hair, and they shared the same interests. He loved art, but she was the one who had pursued it since freshman year in high school. He went on to write for the local newspaper and had his own column. He loved museums as did she, and he had taken to her right away. He lived miles away from where Sam grew up, so she had had to leave her friends behind. It hadn't been too bad, since she was more of a loner. She wasn't part of the in crowd, so she never got invited to parties or school dances. Growing up, she had spent most of her time inside, drawing or painting by numbers.

Rebecca had worked two jobs and had done her best to provide Samantha with necessities. Rebecca had also helped save up for Sam's college education. Sam had basically been on her own until her mother was off of work on the weekends. Saturday had been their night for dinner out or a movie.

Her mother had basically been her best friend, and Samantha had been devastated when she was killed. A semi truck driver had fallen asleep and went over the median, killing Rebecca instantly. Sam had been experimenting with pink hair dye the night she found out. When she met her father at the small gravesite service, she could tell he was shocked at her appearance. Seeing her dressed in black like a goth with pink hair had made him cringe, but once he had gotten to know her, he had seen more. In fact he had felt that he was looking into a mirror.

"So what are you going to do?" Josh asked Samantha after class.

"Duh, what do you think?"

"Oh, your family tree, I take it?" he said, jokingly. "Nice! You will be even more obsessed now!"

Samantha had spent time at the library, looking up old records of her mother's past, but she had found out that her mom's side was so much harder to find than her father's side. Last names changed so much with females, but her mother had kept her maiden name, Harper, which led Samantha to find information on her grandmother Rita Ann, who was married to an Anthony Harper for a short time. Rita's mother was Beth Adelman, and that was the furthest Sam had gotten. She found some information on the Adelman side but none on Beth's family. On her father's side, on the other hand, Sam had found ancestors dating back to the 1700s.

"Yeah, and now I'll have more time to do it! I've been wanting to look into my mother's old neighborhood. You know, where she started school?"

"You mentioned that," Josh said.

"I want to get the feel of her old house and where she went to kindergarten. She never told me anything about her childhood when she started Lotus school, but I have the phone number."

"That's out of the way. You'll need a weekend at least to arrange it. Didn't that school close anyway?"

"Yes, a few years ago, but I want to see if I can take a tour of it. I also wanna see if I can stay up there. Maybe at a hotel or something. Dad will help me. He said he would do all he could for my family-tree search."

"A hotel? Why not just drive back and forth?"

"My Festiva isn't the best vehicle, not to mention it's forty miles away."

Josh stopped walking and looked into Sam's deep-blue eyes. "Well, be careful. And I had plans to get you drunk and stupid for spring break." He laughed, showing that he was joking.

"You wanna come with me?" She hoped he'd say yes. She had been developing a crush on Josh since they graduated high school. He had been a nerd with a bowl haircut who made her laugh and then later transformed into a nice-looking guy with sandy-colored hair and broad shoulders. He had changed but not on the inside.

"Like a spring break trip? In a hotel? Just the two of us?" he asked.

Sam stood there in the hall with students chattering all around them, speechless.

"I can't, Sam. I gotta research the origin of the basset hound."

She giggled, continuing to walk toward the door. On their way out, he said good-bye, and she went on her way home to let her father know she would be taking a small trip to do some digging.

* * *

"Are you sure you're up to this?" her father asked when she broke the news to him later that day.

"Of course!" She had all of her family-tree printouts from Ancestry.com. "This is a dream of mine, and I wanna do it."

"Okay, that's fine with me, but just be careful up there for a week or two. Nobody's going with you?"

Sam shook her head. "Josh said he can't. It shouldn't take longer than five or six days anyway."

"That's good, I don't want you shacking up with a guy anyway." He nudged her arm before he went outside to mow the lawn.

"Thanks, Dad!" She giggled. It took a while getting used to calling someone Dad. She still loved the sound of it.

Sam dialed the number of her mother's grade school but got a recording. It was a woman's voice, giving a different phone number. She left the name Marilyn Young and said she was the school coordinator. Samantha ended the call and dialed the new number.

"Hi, is this Marilyn?"

"Yes?"

"My name is Samantha Harper, and I'm—"

Marilyn cut her off. "Contractor?"

"Huh? No, I'm a student."

"A student from Lotus?" She talked as if she was in a hurry and wanted off the phone.

"No, I'm sorry to bother you, but I'm researching the kindergarten class of 1974–75 and—"

"Oh, a reunion?"

Samantha was becoming irritated with the interruptions. "No. My mother went to school there at that time, and I'm doing a school assignment on her. I wanted to know if I could get in to see the school. Like a tour?"

"Oh. Well, I never had anyone call to ask that!" She laughed nervously.

"I was hoping to come by over the weekend."

"This weekend?" she asked as if she were startled.

"Yes, is that okay?"

"This weekend is busy. How about tomorrow? I can meet you at Jenny's Diner first. We can discuss your assignment there and get to know each other before I take you to see the building. Would that work?"

Samantha didn't expect such short notice on going but figured she'd have to take it. At least she could get a jump start on her paper that way, and the only class she had before spring break kicked in was a computer class, which she had already worked ahead in. The class was such a breeze it was almost a waste of money in tuition.

Sam didn't even know where Jenny's Diner was, so she had to ask this impatient woman. Nevertheless, she was happy to learn that it was down the street from the school, right before the entrance to Roseville Estates, her mother's old neighborhood. She was so excited that she started packing a bag the minute she got off of the phone.

"I'm almost there," Samantha told Josh on her cell. "I'm meeting this Marilyn woman. She was irritating on the phone."

"Well, I'm not starting my paper till next week. I don't know what to write about yet."

"I thought you were doing basset hounds."

"That was a joke, Samantha! I used to tickle the ivories when I was a kid, but how much research could one do on that?"

"Yeah, you're right," Sam agreed. "You'll figure it out."

"Anyway, keep me posted on what you find out."

"Will do, see you later." She ended the call on her Bluetooth device and couldn't help but notice how run-down the area appeared. There were a few people walking, slumped over, carrying groceries or pushing carts. The streets weren't cleared of garbage that well, and local gas stations and grocery stores were in need of a coat of paint. It saddened her to see how places weren't being kept up, and she hoped that Lotus school would be different.

When she turned onto Renwood Drive, which was the street where her mother lived, she went by the school. She paused at the stop sign at the corner. Ahead was the school, and she couldn't help but admire the big red brick building. It reminded Samantha of a landmark that people would stop and look at as they strolled through the neighborhood. The building didn't look as old as she pictured in her mind, and the grounds were nice and clean. She noticed red and yellow flowers out front by the steps and wondered who did the maintenance since the building was closed. There was a sign stating that the building was available for purchase, which must be why the place was being so well cared for.

She started driving and happened to glance over to her right. There was a For Rent sign out in front of a nice home with white aluminum siding and blue shutters. She knew her mother's old address was 314 Renwood. This house was 310. She drove past and pulled to the side of the road, in between the two addresses. There were no driveways, so everyone parked on the street and walked up concrete steps to homes with big porches and lawn furniture out front. It seemed like a nice, quiet place, so she got out of her car and took a look around. She could see her mother's old house. It was an ugly gold color, but the maroon trim stood out, making it more noticeable than any other house on the street.

"Hey there!" she heard a man call out from behind her. She turned to find an old man with white hair, dressed in blue plaid pants with a blue button-up shirt with suspenders. He had a garden hose in his hand.

"Hi," Sam said, waving. "My mother used to live here." She pointed to the gold house. She still had the Bluetooth hooked to her ear. It wasn't easy to see under her thick, curly mane.

"You must be here on business," he said. "Looking to buy a place? The school, maybe?"

She laughed nervously. She was dressed nicely in a black flared skirt and black-and-white-checkered blouse in case this Marilyn Young was the no-nonsense business type who didn't want to take the time for a student. She normally didn't dress that way unless she was going to a wedding or a funeral. She had heard at school that if one dressed seriously, they were taken seriously.

"No, I am looking into my family tree, and my mother went to school here. She lived at 314."

"Oh yeah, the Anderson place. They are renting it, and if you ask me, they aren't taking good care of it. I'm Thomas. I was the janitor at the school there. What was your mom's name?"

"Rebecca Harper," she told him.

"Oh," he said with a blank stare.

"Were you here in the early seventies?"

"Oh, yeah, I have been here since before then. I just have a hard time remembering. I think I know who she is."

"Well, she didn't live here for very long. I think her mother moved out of here around '76. They lived here about five years, I think. She was born when my grandma lived here."

He nodded. "Oh yeah, I remember them."

"It looks like your house is up for rent." Sam pointed out.

"Oh, just the room above the garage."

Sam looked at the house and walked over a little to get a view of the garage behind it.

"Do you wanna take a look?" he asked.

"Well, if I stayed here, it would only be for a week maybe. Spring break and all."

"There won't be any parties, will there?"

"Oh, no," she said, laughing. "It would be to do my research. I was going to get a hotel room, but staying here, right where my mom lived, would be great! My grandma moved to Miller City after they left here. That's where I grew up."

"Nice area out there. Well, we can take a look at the room, if you want. I can rent it out if you want it for a week or two. It's got a love seat and a small two-seater table."

"How about a bed?"

"Yeah, there is an air mattress and a bathroom with a stand-up shower. How that be?"

Sam nodded. "Okay, I'll come look at it. I was also wondering if there was a way I could get in to see my mom's house. The interior."

"I can try to arrange it," he said.

"Thank you so much!" She was so excited she grinned from ear to ear. "I am going to meet Marilyn Young down at Jenny's Diner in about a half hour. I left early since I didn't wanna be late. She seemed so impatient with me yesterday when I called her."

"Oh, that Marilyn," he said as they walked toward his garage. "Known her for years."

Sam felt that she had just stuck her foot in her mouth. "I'm sorry."

"Oh no, I know exactly what you mean. She's the type who wants an answer right now."

This wasn't sounding good to Sam. She had been hoping Marilyn would be nicer in person.

"Just sweet-talk her a little. She loves that. Compliments, I mean."

"I see," said Sam, reluctantly.

They went upstairs, above Thomas's garage. The windows were open, so a nice fresh smell filled the small room. It was one room, living room and kitchen combined. There was a small microwave and refrigerator. Everything was blue and gray, down to the carpet.

"Sorry, no stove, but there are hookups if you have one. My wife wanted to use this for her Tupperware and other parties, before she died."

"Oh, I'm sorry about that," she said awkwardly. "I don't have much but clothes and my laptop."

"Well, if you want to cook, you are welcome to use my stove."

"Oh no, it's only a week, so I'll be fine."

"I can supply you with towels. There is a Laundromat down on the corner, not far from Jenny's."

"Thank you, so much!"

She went ahead and paid him up front, since she wanted to make sure she had the money and didn't accidentally blow it before she returned back home. She brought her clothes up, and he gave her a key. She had just enough time to leave her bag of clothes and toiletries on the floor and her laptop on the table before she headed to Jenny's. She planned on unpacking her photo albums first, to show Thomas her mother's old photos.

"Tell that old Marilyn I said hi."

Sam giggled on her way to her car. "I will. Thank you, Thomas."