Day 36

[This is a continuation of Day 35. I've reprinted yesterday's paragraphs to make it easier for reading (and writing). And I may have edited them a bit...]
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When your mother is missing in another dimension and your father is slowly losing his mind to grief, you start to think differently about the rules you've been following your entire life. Like stealing. What if stealing something, even if you know it's wrong, could be the clue to finding your mother? If you're like me, you take a deep breath, make a plan, and grab what you need. In this case, a key card that will open the door to a room with a computer that may have all of the answers.

On Monday after school, my friend Laura and I go to my mom's company and I sneak into the hidden drawer of her desk to get the key card. Then we go down the hallway to look for the hidden room we know is there. We try to appear inconspicuous—we talk to each other and look like we knew where we are going. It helps that I have visited the place a bunch of times with my mom before she disappeared. And then I kept visiting after she was gone to talk with some of her closest friends and try to find out something, anything about what had what happened. All in all, most people are used to seeing me around the place.

The building where my mom works contains one of six labs at the center of her company's experimental division. They mostly do research on new medicines for diseases like cancer and MS, but there is also a secret team working on seriously amazing things that they aren't allowed to talk about. Except my mother broke protocol and told me and my dad about it, because that's how our family rolls. We love solving puzzles, and the kinds of things my mom was working on are the biggest puzzles in the universe. Like time travel. And moving across dimensions. It sounds crazy, I know, but my mom is so smart that if anyone can figure it out, she can. And I think she did. But I'm the only one.

Everyone else thinks that she ran off somewhere or that something bad happened to her. At least that's what they say. When I tell them I think her experiments somehow shot her into another dimension and that she has no way to get back, they look disappointed or confused. My dad says I'm trying to shield myself from the truth because it's too painful to bear. I tell him that he's given up too quickly.

And that's why Laura and I are searching the hallway now. We pass some doors to conference rooms and bathrooms, then turn left where I remember my mom going in the past. She didn't let me follow her there, so that's why I figure it's the best place to try. At the end of that hallway we arrive at frosted glass doors. We can't see or hear anything on the other side, but there's a light on. Laura nudges me and points to a key pass reader on the wall to the right of the door. We look around, but no one has come down the hallway. I pull the key pass out of my pocket and swipe it in front of the reader. The reader makes an annoying buzzing sound and red text flashes across the display. It says, "Card Invalid."

"That's not good," Laura says, looking up and down the hallway to see if anyone has heard the buzz.

"I'll try it again," I say, and swipe the card against the reader a second time. I get the same buzzing, same text display.

"We should go," Laura says.

Her voice is tense and she is starting to back away from the door. But I can't just give up when this could mean a break in finding out what happened to my mom.

"Third time's the charm!" I say, and swipe the card again.

New text flashes on the display: "Invalid attempts exceeded." And suddenly there's a loud, endless siren that echoes all around us.

"Run!" I yell, and we book it down the hall, hoping no one notices where we came from.