Cutler 01 - Dawn

itself was announced by a road sign and in moments, we were driving through the seaside resort with its neon lights, its restaurants, motels and hotels.
    Soon I caught sight of a large road sign that indicated we were about to enter Cutler's Cove. It wasn't much of a village, just a long street with all sorts of small stores and restaurants. I couldn't see much because we passed through it so quickly, but what I did see looked quaint and cozy.
    "According to our directions, it's just up here," Officer Dickens said.
    I thought about Philip, who was still back at school, and wondered if he had been told any of this yet. Perhaps his parents had phoned him. How had he taken the news? Surely he was just as confused by the lightning revelations.
    "Looks real nice for a new start," the policeman next to me said, finally acknowledging what we were doing and why we were in the car heading for the Cutler's Cove Hotel.
    "That's for sure," Officer Carter said.
    "There it is," Officer Dickens announced, and I sat forward.
    The coastline curved inward at this point, and I saw that there was a beautiful length of sandy white beach that sparkled as if it had been combed clean. Even the waves that came up came up softly, tenderly, as if the ocean were afraid of doing any damage. As we passed the entrance to the beach, I spotted a sign that read,
    RESERVED FOR CUTLER COVE HOTEL GUESTS ONLY. Then the patrol car turned right up a long drive, and I saw the hotel ahead, sitting on a little rise, the manicured grounds gently rolling down before it.
    It was an enormous three-story Wedgwood blue mansion with milk-white shutters and a large wrap-around porch. Most of the rooms were lit up, and there were Japanese lanterns along the top of the porch and above the spiraling stairway built out of bleached wood. The foundation was made from polished stone. Bathed in the ground lights, it sparkled as if it had been built out of pearls. Guests were meandering about the beautiful grounds upon which there were two small gazebos; wooden and stone benches and tables; fountains, some shaped like large fish, some simple saucers with spouts in the middle; and gardens full of beautiful flowers capturing almost all the colors of the rainbow. The walkways were bordered with short hedges and lit by well-spaced foot-lights.
    "Somewhat better than what you've been used to, huh?" Officer Carter said. I just glared at her. How could she be so callous? I didn't answer her; I turned away and gazed out the window as the patrol car wound its way around the circular drive.
    "Keep going," Officer Carter said. "Round back. That's where we were told to go."
    Round back? I thought. Where were my new parents, my real parents? Why hadn't they rushed to Richmond to claim me instead of having policemen bring me as if I were a criminal? Weren't they excited about meeting me? Perhaps they were as nervous about it as I was. I wondered if Philip had told them things about me. Had Clara Sue? She would get them to hate me for sure.
    The patrol car stopped, but my heart wouldn't stop pounding, thumping against my chest as if there were a tiny little drummer inside me beating his drumsticks against my bones. I could barely breathe, and I couldn't stop trembling. Oh, Momma, I thought, if you hadn't gotten sick and been taken to the hospital, I wouldn't be here now. Why was fate so cruel? This can't be happening; you and Daddy just couldn't have been baby kidnappers. There has to be another explanation, one my true parents might know and be willing to tell me. Please let it be so, I prayed.
    As soon as we stopped, Officer Dickens got out quickly and opened the door for us.
    "After I get them to sign this," Officer Carter said, indicating papers on her clipboard, "I'll come right out."
    Sign this? I thought, looking at the document. I was being treated as if I were something delivered and actually taken to the delivery entrance.
    I stood there, staring at the back entrance of the hotel. All it was was a small door with a screen door. There were four wooden steps leading up to it. Officer Carter started toward the door, but I didn't follow. I stood there holding my suitcase.
    "Come along," she commanded. She saw my hesitation and put her hands on her hips. "This is your home, your real family. Let's go," she snapped and reached out to take my hand.
    "Good luck, Dawn," Officer Dickens called.
    Officer Carter tugged me, and I followed her to the door. Suddenly it was opened and a nearly