A Daughter's Duty

Chapter 14

I watched the sun rise high up in the sky as Michael shut off the cassette and stared at me. Delilah had both her hands on her mouth, tears streaming out of her eyes. Mr. I was standing by the bed, one hand on the four poster, the other on his heart, as if he couldn't believe something like this had happened.

Neither could I.

"Oh, my dear child..." was all Mr. I had to say.

"But... how? When?" Asked Delilah.

"I don't know." I said flatly.

"How do you not know?" Her voice and demeanor seemed to be doing everything except outright blaming me for Gran's kidnapping. "Didn't you hear anything?"

I turned to her, rage burning in my chest, tears prickling in my already bloodshot eyes. "Don't you think I would've done something if I had heard anything, Delilah? Do you think I haven't beaten myself enough for it? You haven't even been here once, so who are you to judge, you - ?" I was about to call her something very unkind, but a wave of sobs came over me right then.

My Gran, my poor Gran, who needed help even when she had to go to the bathroom, was now a captive. Her fragile hands would be tied with rough rope, a smelly sack would be over her head, she would most likely have an asthma attack, and then she wouldn't be able to breathe, and something life-threatening would happen to her...

"Eve, calm down!" Exclaimed Mr. I, putting his hands on my shoulders as I started hyperventilating.

Michael slid closer to me and put a hand on my knee. "Hey," he said softly. "Is your key alright?"

My hand immediately went up to my neck, and I relaxed when I felt the metal under my shirt. "Yes - yes, I've got it."

He nodded. "Keep it safe, then. That's the one thing that they'll want from you in return for your Gran."

Mr. I nodded. "Yes, he is right. But, the real question is, who are they?"

That was the one thing I did not have an answer to.

Outside the window, I heard a little tinkle from a bicycle.

"Mail call." I said, and hurried out before anyone could object or offer to go.

The little red flag on the mailbox was raised. I walked slowly down the path, keeping my eyes open for any doubtful behavior, while doing my best not to appear apprehensive.

I opened the mail box. There was a single, white envelope in it. No posted stamps, no to- or from-addresses. Just one line in the center.

'For :

Lia 'Cupcake' Roberts'

Oh, God... it was my grandmother's handwriting. Nobody else would call me cupcake.

I turned the letter around. There was another line, written in a different writing.

'Read it right here. We are always watching.'

I looked around frantically, searching for this spy. But there was no one outside in the cold, dark morning. I looked back at my house, but there was no one on the roof either. My heart started beating painfully as, hands trembling, I opened the letter and read -

'Hello, Cupcake

I assume by your expression that you are utterly shocked by the sudden disappearance of your beloved Gran. She is terrified too. But not to worry, she is safe, the word being a very relative term.