Abby ran through the hall way. Her long black hair whipped behind her as she turned sharp corners that lead to all but abandoned corridor. The rooms had be locked and forgotten during the latter years of World War II and none of the current owners had the need for the space. Abby laughed as she padded the shiny wooden floors with her pink ballet flats. At ten years old she held all the beauty that was her family legacy. Tan clear skin, thick locks of black hair and eyes so deeply green that they shone further then her gaze. Anyone who saw her would guess her heritage was middle eastern or some other equally exotic origin but in truth she was English. Her family went back generations but she knew very little of them or their history. All she knew is that she wanted to find her brother so he could watch her new dance routine. She had already looked in his bedroom, the TV room and the garden and since he wasn't there she knew where he would be found. Her brother was her hero. A young college student he was handsome, smart and also fairly dorkey. His major hobbies included history, art and classical music. He could be only one other place, the attic.

Abby hated the attic. Thick layers of dust covered crates of useless artifacts. The room was hot and musty. Her brother was spending his summer break exploring the room hoping to find a treasure in the piles of junk. As she rounded the last stair to the attic she spotted her brother. He was using and empty crate as a desk; Piles of papers and photographs littered that surface as well as the floor. Eric sat in the middle of this mess. His long dark hair swept from his face, his lip caught between teeth and his eyes scanning a large book.

"Eric" Abby said tensely as she was trying not to scare him. He jumped nevertheless.

"Oh, Abby" he breathed "You scared me."

Abby was just about to introduce her reason for her visit when Eric interrupted her excitedly motioning to the piles all around him.

"…and she wrote it all down. The books are all full. There is like years of information all waiting to be read and studied. We could learn so much."

"Huh…oh cool. Want to see my dance?" Abby smiled as she spoke.

"Oh of course…first though want to look at these pictures?"

Eric knew that his sister loved old time "Poufy" gowns and although he did want to see her dance he couldn't pry his eyes off this new found information. Abby sat next to him crossing her tiny legs at the ankle. He sat the leather bound album on her lap. She carefully opened the old book to the first page. This page was covered with a single portrait. A young couple sat stoically in the center. Their clothes were simple and dark. The women had too much dark hair piled in a top heavy bun and her male counterpart had a face set with anger and what seemed to be pain. At first glance the picture was ugly but upon closer inspection one could see the man's firm grasp held the women's slender waist making her eyes spark. Abby smiled up at her brother also noticing the deep compassion between the two people in the photo.

She gingerly turned the page again. She began giggling when she saw the next picture. A young boy sat in a linen suit complete with a pith helmet. The boy would have been angelic if had not been for the smattering of mud that cascaded the left side if his body and face. More pictures of the same boy lined the next few pages. In each one he grew taller, he grew muscle and by the tenth portrait he was a full grown man. He stood next to an Egyptian man who could have been mistaken for a brother. Their smiles screamed mischief. Abby again turned the page fully expecting to see the young man again but instead she found a light haired girl. She was twelve or thirteen but her manner came across as almost royal. Again more pictures followed of the same girl and she grew in them as well until she was a beautiful bride. Her face shone with joy. Soft tendrils of hair were curled and pinned into a lace veil. To her left sat the dark haired boy from earlier.

"Who are they?" Asked Abby as she ran her finger across the picture; tracing the image to memory. Eric searched for a name or date so he could answer his sister. A scrolled script gave both.

"Ramses and Nefret- September 15, 1914" He read aloud.

"That's Grandpa's Grandma and Grandpa!" Screamed Abby realizing the connection to her own family almost at once.

They flipped through the book only to find it ended some time after the mid 1920's.

"Gosh, I wonder what they were like" Abby wondered out loud.

"Well if you had been listening…these books there journals." He flipped to the first page pointing to the dark haired women "She wrote them."

Eric had been filing them by the date on the spine when Abby had found him. He began to read to her.

-By dusk the journal was laid open in between the two Emerson children as the eagerly awaited the unmasking of the villain. Eric's voice was horse and he wanted a drink desperately but stopping to get one was not an option. They had to know who the mummy was. The next few days followed in the same pattern. Abby and him would rush the stairs as soon as breakfast ended only to spend the day reading these journals. They tried telling their parents the stories only to be met with disbelief and ill found jokes at their expense. On the sixth of such days just as Ramses had saved the day and his mother from a collapsing tomb Abby drew a heavy sigh.

"See I told you they would be fine" Eric smiled at Abby.

"It's not that" she cried. "It's just that no one believes these. These stories didn't hide for years only to be hidden once we were done with them." She folded her arms across her knees hiding her face in the crook of her elbow..

"Were just going to have to publish them then." The idea was spoke with the intention of soothing his sister. He could not have possibly guessed how his simple suggestion had changed Abby's life. She was a true Emerson and in that spirit she set forth on her task.

Ten Years Later

Abby sat in her large office. The window framed the city sky line. The walls were lined with copies of the portraits of her family member found in her attic years ago. The room also held a large glass case in which set the original fifteen journals that had started it all. Across from Abby sat a reporter taking notes. Abby had spent years proofing, typing and filling in the blanks in her ancestors narrative. The series was set for its first release in a week's times. Egyptian scholars sat in wait as did adventure seekers. They heard tales of the Emerson's but to get it in a first person narrative was like living a real adventure in real historical time. Abby could not wait to share her legacy with the world and was saying as much when he fiancé walked in. The reporter politely excused herself and Abby leaped up to kiss her future husband

"My dear Emerson." He explained kissing her nose lightly. The tradition of last name pet names had continued with the young couple. Eric had also married. She was an Egyptian fiction writer wanting to get the facts straight in her novel. The family was thriving in all areas and one could only hope that it would make Amelia proud.