“The Flight For Answers,” by Sienna Alfano: December 2024 2nd Place

The holiday party was in full swing, and I was doing my best to have fun. My family was the most magical family in Connecticut, but you wouldn't know it by hanging around this party. The only magic was when my aunt conjured a bottomless bowl of eggnog.

Still, I tried to enjoy myself. But that’s hard when your cousins whisper behind your back, and your relatives throw you pitying looks. It had been like that for a while— since my father disappeared three years ago.

I’d had enough. I made my way through the throng and slipped into a broom closet to be alone (and I mean broom closet—we stored our flying vehicles there). I took some deep breaths, loosening the sash of my itchy dress.

Suddenly, something brushed against my forehead. I fumbled around the top of a repurposed bookshelf, and I felt thin, dusty paper. I pulled it down and saw writing upon it.

Dearest Caroline,

I am so sorry for what I am about to do. Know that I will always be with you. I did my best to prevent what will happen, and I hope it is enough. Alas, I do not think it will be. But there is still hope. Find me where trees speak on the shortest day, three years from now.

Much love,

Charles

It was a letter from my father to my mother.

But what did he mean by preventing something? Everything was normal until he disappeared.

I needed answers.

I reread the letter. It appeared to be written before he died. Three years from then would be this year. The shortest day was two days away. Speaking trees were obviously the Silvan Forest, a two-day flight from here.

I needed to find my father, but how could I leave the party? I couldn’t tell anyone—I’d be stopped.

I folded the letter. Tucked it into my pocket. Grabbed a broom from the shelf, opened the closet door, and stepped outside. The weight of what I was about to do sank in.

I didn’t know how I would accomplish this, but I would try. I mounted the broom and took off into the night.