Prologue
Rambling thoughts spun in her head as she came to, darkness slowly receding.
So tired, she thought. Why am I so very tired?
She gradually became aware of broken asphalt under her fingers, large chunks digging painfully into her back. Shivering, limbs heavy with fatigue, she tried to focus through the heavy darkness.
Why am I lying in the street? What happened? Gotta get out of the street…
Taking a deep breath, she was immediately struck by a pain so intense her mind and all senses went blank. Time passed, maybe minutes, maybe hours.
Then consciousness again, surfacing slowly as she once again fought back the darkness.
I’m dying.
Where had that thought come from?
Tears coursed down her face, the cold November air turning her hair to ice. For a few moments, her muscles tightened painfully, trembling out of control, then slowly began to calm. Warmth spread through her body, the smell of rotting wood and itchy weeds fading as her mind fought against the returning darkness. Thoughts and chaotic images jumbling up together before fading away, leaving only one.
Why would he do this?
Unable to focus, not knowing herself which he she was questioning, that final thought also faded along with the last remnants of fear as numbness set in, taking the pain away forever.
Chapter 1
November 16th, 2018, 6:30 am
Hannah’s morning began, much as it always had, with the soft music of her alarm filling the room. She had never been fond of generic alarm tones, choosing instead to use songs from the playlist on her iPhone. This morning it was a current favorite, melodic piano notes and the soothing voice of Marian Hill enticing her lover onto the dance floor. Hannah smiled, refusing to open her eyes as she listened to the song that perfectly reflected the dream she had just left behind. Dancing in the arms of a mysterious man, moonlight silvering them in romance as he moved her effortlessly, in the way of dreams, across a dance floor sprinkled with stars fallen from heaven.
She sighed as remnants of dream-induced happiness began to slip away with the first rays of sunrise, fighting the temptation of returning to the arms of her dream lover. Oh, how she dreaded getting up, crawling out from under the heaps of warmth and comfort and peace! Hannah fought to keep her eyes closed a moment longer, just until the end of the song, before finally opening them to face reality.
She languidly stretched, feeling muscles tight from yesterday’s workout sigh in relief as she allowed her body to sink back down into the soft depths of their sinfully luxuriant – and ridiculously expensive – mattress. The price of which she had strenuously objected to, only to be overruled by Seth. It’s not that she didn’t love the mattress. It was just that the price could have fed an entire family for several months! But her husband had a way of getting what he wanted by making her feel guilty. His favorite maneuver was always to make her feel as if he only thought about her. Her objections, when he was only trying to put her first, well, they really hurt his feelings. Or so he said.
Hannah sighed, vigorously rubbing her face as if attempting to scrub off the ugliness of her southbound marriage. Even as the action made her feel better, she could hear her mother speaking in her head, a rare sincerity ringing in her voice, as she lectured about the dangers of ageing.
Hannah Marie, how many times do I have tell you?! (deep sighs, shaking of head) You cannot abuse your delicate skin or you will wrinkle young! (cue look of horror, oh my)
For her mother, physical appearance and social standing were hands down the only important goals a young lady should strive to achieve. Everything else, she always adamantly claimed, could be faked. Hannah was sure her mother loved her, in her own materialistic way, but she was also painfully aware that their expectations for the future were as different as sea from land.
Fate had helped her mother’s dream come true when Hannah became pregnant immediately after graduating high school. Ecstatic that Hannah had cemented a commitment from a proper boy, she had begun planning the wedding before Seth’s parents had even known about their impending grandchild. Never mind that she was only seventeen years old. Nor did she seem to care whether Hannah wanted a baby or even to marry Seth. Helpless against this force of unwavering selfish motivation, she could only watch in quiet despair as her mother reorganized her entire life. The cancellation of Hannah’s application to the best interior design school on the east coast had been the first order of business.
Hannah, there is simply no need to pursue your silly dreams now that you have more important things to consider. For goodness sakes, we will barely have enough time – less than six weeks – to accomplish a full make over before the wedding! I will not endure the embarrassment of having my daughter waddle down the aisle!
Dress fittings, guest lists, and cake tastings were squeezed in between doctor’s appointments and shopping for a completely new wardrobe. After all, her mother reasoned, one must present the proper appearance when marrying one of Seth’s social stature.
Hannah, a true lady never embarrasses her husband. Especially as Seth has been so generous with his agreement to marry you!
Everything was about Seth. And the importance of his family. Her mother even went so far as to present Hannah a list of tasks pertaining to appearance.
Brush your hair 100 strokes every night, Hannah. Blonde hair such as yours is so quick to go dull. Keep your weight perfect, Hannah. It’s difficult for a man to love a fat woman. Don’t wear those heels, Hannah! You are too tall and mustn’t tower over your husband.
And the list went on and on, listing everything from jewelry etiquette to the proper way of walking and the importance of perfect posture. All written out in calligraphy beautiful enough to frame. And Hannah’s perfect life, much to her despair, had begun.
But Hannah, what more could one want? Seth is giving you everything, Hannah. All you have to do is be the perfect wife! Just listen to what you’re told and don’t be so selfish.
Hannah sighed, absently rubbing the tension at the back of her neck. Taking a deep breath to expunge the flood of painful memories, and her mother’s annoying voice, she threw off the covers and headed for the shower. A moment of thrill ran through her as she selected a playlist from her phone and turned the music up indecently loud, effectively silencing her depressing thoughts. She loved all kinds of music and often took opportunities to jam out when Seth, who only approved of “classy” music, was away. A session loud enough to drown out her inner thoughts, singing to Adele or dancing to the crazy lyrics of Nicki Minaj, never failed to cheer her up.
Completing her morning routine, she went to wake up her 15-year old son for school. Sighing at his newest Do Not Enter sign, Hannah pounded on the door.
“Daniel! Time to get up!”
“No.”
Rolling her eyes, she flung the door open and flipped on the light. “Daniel, I don’t have time for this. Get up, get dressed, breakfast in ten minutes.”
“Mom! Get out! I’m not going to school. I’m done with that shit hole place.”
“Are we really going there again? And watch your language, please. You know how your father feels about that.”
“Whatever. He doesn’t give two fucks about me. Go away.”
Gritting her teeth, Hannah chose to ignore the routine complaint. Seth didn’t have the greatest relationship with their son, but Daniel was a teenager, after all. Although one with a little more than the normal rampant hormonal issues and attitude of a boy trying to carve his place in the world. Ever since Daniel had been diagnosed with bipolar depression disorder, even the simplest request was routinely met with attitude. Seth had responded by becoming even more demanding, insisting Daniel simply needed an attitude adjustment.
Knowing that anger would only be met with anger, Hannah tried a gentler approach.
“Danny, you know that’s not true.” Crossing the room, she sat on the edge of the bed and affectionally ruffled her son’s hair. “Now come on, get up. You can’t be late again or the school will suspend you. And we both know how Dad feels about that.”
Grumbling under his breath, Daniel rolled over and glared at her. God, he looked so much like his father in that moment. Dark, curly hair framed high cheekbones and a square jaw before falling to his shoulders. He had also inherited his father’s olive skin and naturally muscular build rather than Hannah’s lighter complexion and slight, although tall, frame. The only physical trait connecting mother and son were eyes the color of aquamarine, a rarity considering Seth’s dark brown eyes.
Hannah sighed again. She loved her son, but times like this were becoming more and more difficult to navigate. She wondered if things would ever change.
“Danny, please…”
“Fine, whatever, getting up, okay?” Rolling out of bed, he growled, “Wouldn’t want to embarrass you or Dad with my stupid imperfections. Again.”
“Daniel, please don’t. I hate when you talk that way. You know we love you very much. Both of us only want what is best for you.”
The only response was the slamming of the bathroom door.
Hannah sat for a moment longer, fighting to breath through the overwhelming worry that seemed to press down on her body like a physical weight. Lately, it seemed like her son’s aggression was a constant issue rather than sporadic. The doctor had assured them that this was normal, reminding them that it would take Daniel awhile to adjust to the medications. But lately…well, she wasn’t so sure anything was helping her son. Would Daniel ever be able to live a normal life? Tears burned the back of her eyes.
No, don’t go there. Just let it go…
Several deep breaths later, Hannah felt like her body had regained solid form enough to function normally. Getting up, she headed to the kitchen to fix Daniel breakfast so he could take his medication. She made a mental note to pick up his refill when she dropped off Seth’s dry cleaning, which was right across the street from the pharmacy.
Today had already been emotionally draining, but at least she would see Tamara for lunch. God knows she needed a dose of the crazy, perpetuality cheerful energy of her best friend.
Chapter 2
November 16th, 2018, 11:00 am
Pulling up to valet parking at their usual lunch place, Hannah stepped out of the car with a bounce to her step, unable to contain a smile of pure happiness. A long lunch with her best friend, really her one and only friend, was a treat Hannah didn’t get to enjoy often enough. Sometimes, she felt like these couple of hours respite from her daily duties were all that held her together.
Smiling softly at the courteous doorman, she walked in and quickly saw Tamara waiting for her at a window table. Brushing off the hostess with another soft smile, Hannah began weaving her way through artfully placed tables, absently admiring the contrast of dark purple flowers and vibrant yellow cloth napkins against the startling white linen tablecloths.
As she reached the table, Tamara jumped up for their ritual hug, the beads in her ebony braids clicking together and happiness bubbling in her voice as she greeted Hannah.
“Girl, I have missed you! Where have you been and what have you been doing? I bet Seth been driving you crazy, right? That douche bag kept you away just way too long this time and I’m feeling a little neglected over here. And, girl, I’m sure you have a story or two about that woman who masquerades as your momma. So, I’m dying over here! Tell me everything!”
Laughing at her friend’s pet name for Seth, Hannah replied, “Oh, Tam, I have seriously missed you! I truly don’t know what I would do without you.”
“Team Hannah all the way”, Tamara said, grinning as she energetically pumped her fist in the air. “Girl, you know I got your back. Now shut up and talk!”
Hannah laughed, then smiled through the nostalgic tears misting her eyes. “It has been too long. On the way over, I was thinking about the day we met. Remember what happened?”
“Like I could forget! Girl, the look on your face when old whatshername was badgering you about that club. God, what was her name?”
“Louise. And she kept insisting I needed to join her debate club, but I didn’t want to. I remember I didn’t want to hurt her feelings, but she was so insistent! I just felt so uncomfortable…”
Tamara raised a brow, “Uncomfortable? Girl, you were terrified, nothing less.”
“Okay, maybe a little scared…” The brow rose even further and Hannah laughed. “Alright, fine, I was terrified. But it’s just because I’m naturally quiet, you know that. The last thing I wanted to do was have public disagreements with a bunch of people I didn’t even know.”
“Uh-huh, quiet, sure. More like so shy you jumped like a rabbit every time anyone even looked too long at you!” Tamara said, shooting Hannah an affectionate grin.
“And you were just the opposite.”
Tamara snorted, shaking her head. “A good thing too, or your senior year of high school woulda been so boring. In fact, you might even still be stuck in that corner with big ole Louise bullying the crap out of you.”
Laughing at her best friend’s teasing, Hannah said, “Oh, you are definitely responsible for so many wonderful things in my life. From the moment you saved me from big old Louise!” Feeling her heart surge with gratitude and love, she continued, “I can honestly say I wouldn’t be where I am today without your strength and encouragement.”
“Damn straight, girl!” She slapped a high five on Hannah then, with a familiar flinty glint in her eye, said, “Except for that thing disguised as a man that you married. I refuse to be responsible for that tragedy. By the way, when is he supposed to be home this time?”
The light in Hannah’s eyes dimmed, tension crawling up her shoulders as a familiar heaviness settled in the pit of her stomach. “Later this evening, his flight lands at La Guardia around 8:20, I think. Of course, he will expect me there to pick him up.”
“Damn, girl. I hate he can take your happiness like he does. Just a mention and bam! It’s written all…”
“Hello, ladies! Wow, it’s been forever since you two have been in.” Darla, their favorite waitress, gave them each a brief hug. “So, are we celebrating with a glass of wine or two today?”
“Oh, hell yeah! Darla, love, you read my mind.”
Hannah opened her mouth to accept, then reconsidered as a vision of Seth’s disapproval soured her stomach. Damn him, he was all the way across the country, yet he still controlled her every move.
Deflated, she replied softly, “No, but thank you, Darla. I’ll just have iced tea, please.”
Tamara frowned, adamantly shaking her head in denial.
“Oh no, girl, you will not be welcoming that douche home with nothing more fortifying than a damn sweet tea.”
“Tam, you know how Seth feels about alcohol…”
“And this is your problem why? Have that glass of wine, girl! Lord knows you deserve it having to deal with his uptight ass.”
Hesitating just a little too long, Hannah replied, “No, much as I would love a glass, I shouldn’t really. Darla, I’ll just stick…”
Much to Hannah’s shock and Tamara’s glee, Darla interrupted, “Pinot Noir, right ladies?”
Laughing outright, Tamara gave the motherly waitress a high-five and a wink.
“Thanks, D! Took the words right outta my mouth!”
Faced with Darla’s retreating back, Hannah suddenly decided to just enjoy herself fully for once. And damn Seth and his hypocritical ways.
“You know what, Tam? I might even have two glasses!”
For once feeling no guilt at disobeying her husband’s wishes, Hannah smiled as she decided that this moment was going to be about her. As the two women launched themselves into a conversation only a soul mate could keep up with, Hannah fully relaxed for the first time in over a month. Enjoying the unscripted joy infused with laughter, gossip and silliness, she put her worries aside, knowing they would most certainly be faithfully waiting when she returned to her reality.
Chapter 3
November 17th, 2018, 2:22 am
The abrupt ringing of her phone jerked Hannah awake, initial confusion fading into concern as she noted the time. Not recognizing the number, she debated not answering. Seth had phoned earlier to let her know, at the last minute of course, that he wouldn’t be home tonight. He always waited until the last minute to inform her about any of his plans. And Daniel, after a strained dinner punctuated by typical teenage grunts in response to her attempts at conversation, had been barricaded in his room since. So, who was calling at this time of night?
Sighing, sure it would be a wrong number, Hannah finally answered.
“Mom?”
“Daniel? Why are you calling me? Are you sick?”
“Mom, stop, please…they want you to come. Please Mommy…”
Alarmed, Hannah jumped out of bed already running for the bedroom door, “Daniel, who are they? Whose number is this? Where are you? Daniel…? Answer me!”
“He’s where he shouldn’t be, Mommy.” A stranger’s voice, deep and mocking, stunned her to momentary silence. Fear began to beat at the back of her mind as she thrust her son’s door open. Then slammed into her when she realized his room was empty.
“Who is this? What have you done to my son?”
“Oh, I haven’t done anything yet, lady. But I will. Unless you want to take his place.”
“What are you talking about? What place? Where is my son?”
The man laughed, an ugly sound that made her stomach cramp in terror as he rattled off an address on the other side of town. Taunting her in a sing song voice, “And come alone or you’ll be sorry…”. Then, abruptly, only silence.
“Oh God, hello? Hello? Please, are you there? Don’t hurt my son! Please…”
A sound, almost inaudible as she pressed the phone harder against her ear. Was he still there? Oh please, she thought, please be there…
“Be prepared to pay for his sins, Mommy. And yours too.” This last command delivered softly, the lack of emotion stopping her breath cold between one heartbeat and the next. Then she was running. Shoes, where were her shoes? Oh God, she couldn’t find her keys…no, on the counter!
Fear now coursed through her veins, making her hands shake so badly it took her three stabs at the garage door opener for it to work. Dropping the key, picking it up, slicing her finger as she jammed it into its slot. Shift to reverse. Damnit, didn’t start the car! Cranking the key too hard, engine shrieking in an agony that matched her soul, screeching out barely beneath the garage door.
Hannah raced down the street, running a stop sign on the corner as she jerked the wheel into a hard right onto the main road of the subdivision, then hitting the gas hard again. Only to slam on the brakes, tires screaming as the little BMW X6M stopped just inches shy of crashing into the heavy wrought iron gate of the subdivision’s entrance. As she watched the gate slide excruciatingly slow to the right, a thought broke through the panic clouding her mind.
How had this person taken her son?
Or had someone taken him? Hannah knew her son had issues, but she had never known him to sneak out at night. He wasn’t even old enough to drive alone, having only just gotten his learner’s permit less than a month ago. And this was a secured community with gates accessible only by strictly monitored openers. Then there was the security on the house – how had they bypassed that? Even as the panic still roared in her mind, a small doubt began to surface. Why had she assumed he was taken against his will? Then doubt was pushed aside as his voice surfaced in her mind again…Please Mommy…and she saw the gate had moved enough to get out.
Even as she slammed the gas pedal to the floor, Hannah realized nothing mattered except her son was in trouble and she would do whatever it took to save him. As she drove, her heart pounded so hard her entire body shook and time seemed to jump erratically out of step with reality. Repeatedly wiping her sweat-slicked hands on her jeans, desperately wishing a cop would appear while equally terrified of the consequences of disobeying their orders to come alone.
Reaching the neighborhood, she slowed, searching for the address the man had given her. Finally locating the house, she threw the car in park and jumped out, losing her balance and falling hard. Palms and knees burning, trying hard to breath through her fear, she pulled herself up and paused to take in her surroundings.
A weak half-moon slid out from between scattered clouds, bringing into focus the rundown homes that marched in long rows to either side, porches sagging in despair amid riots of weed-infested yards. What first appeared as menacing shapes resolved themselves into broken tire swings and discarded toys scattered about haphazardly. Doubt set in again as she started towards the house, wondering why her son would willingly be in such a place.
Someone had to have taken him…of course they did…he wouldn’t…
Suddenly, a man’s voice called out to her by name. Completely void of emotion, colored only by a faint Bronx born accent, so familiar…where had she heard that voice before?
It’s the man on the phone! He has my son where is my son…
Whirling to face him, fear finally morphing into anger, Hannah opened her mouth to demand the return of her son. Only to freeze at the sight of a gun, held in the hand of a man she had never seen before.
“Hello, Hannah.”
“Where is my son? Who are you? Why are you doing this?”
“Irrelevant at this point, Hannah.” Speaking softly, strangely polite, the man smiled. “Goodbye, Hannah.”
Another sound, a click, followed by the echoing sound of a gunshot.
She felt the punch of the bullet as it knocked her down, but oddly no pain
Oh my god oh my god omygod …please…please, someone help…
Hannah’s fear for her son flooded her heart as she began to struggle, her body jerking helplessly in its last attempt to live. She knew she was dying. She didn’t know why, or who, but the certainty of death loomed closer with every erratic beat of her heart.
She still didn’t realize that her life, her marriage, even the love of her son, had only been an illusion. Couldn’t know that this moment was the culmination of a chain of events, one that had been in motion for longer than she knew, one that would change everything before the next sunrise.
Chapter 4
December 15, 2018, 7:25 am
Brrrack! BrrraCK! BrrrACK! BRRRACK!
Hannah jolted awake, body instinctively reacting in defense to that god-awful sound. Finally locating the alarm and silencing it, she groaned as she forced her teeth to unclench.
Jeez, why set that alarm instead of my music? I’m not old enough to be senile yet…
Shaking off her annoyance, Hannah glanced at the clock, then swore softly under her breath. Already late! Time to get her family moving. Jumping up, she reached for her robe, then abruptly stopped as confusion hit.
Why am I naked?
Her mind stuttered, then immediately began racing as she tried to recall what could have happened last night that left her naked. Seth wasn’t home from his business trip yet. She clearly remembered him calling her last night, something about a late dinner with a prospective new client. And she never slept in the nude, that feeling of being exposed while helplessly unconscious never sitting comfortably. Looking around the room, she saw no evidence of her husband. Absolutely none whatsoever. In fact, she recognized nothing in this enormous room. What the hell happened last night? Whose bedroom was this? And where were her clothes? A faint memory of a man’s voice surfaced…
Oh shit! No, no way…surely I didn’t do that???
The last thing she remembered was…nothing much really. Darkness, confusion. Pain…? Wait, something about Daniel…in trouble? Well, that was no help because it seemed lately that Daniel was always in trouble. She strained to remember, but her memory remained stubbornly blank, stained only with elusive impressions of emotion. Feeling a little shaky, Hannah took a deep breath, holding for five then releasing slowly just as her yoga instructor had taught.
Ok, not going to freak out. There is a reasonable explanation. Just breathe…
Hannah briefly searched for her clothes again before giving up and slipping on the robe laying across the bed. Squinting her eyes against the sunlight streaming through the white lace curtains, she listened for any sound of humanity beyond the soft trills of birdsong and the faint whoosh of traffic. But neither sound nor movement arose to break the heavy mausoleum feel of silence within the house.
Creeping slowly across the walnut colored wood floor, she made her way out into a wide hallway. Two other doors across the hall stood closed then, at the end of the hallway, a wide set of stairs trailed off and around to the right before dropping out of sight. Absolutely nothing was familiar.
Taking another deep breath, Hannah made her way down slowly, examining each of the numerous family-style pictures placed at carefully measured intervals down the curved wall of the staircase. She recognized none of the people, but one younger woman appeared consistently throughout. More striking in appearance than traditionally beautiful, there was something about her that struck Hannah as familiar. Dark hair the color of espresso framed an almost delicate face as it fell in a riot of natural curls to her slender waist. The expression in her large emerald green eyes seemed to reflect the slightly smug smile, her expression one of practiced perfection.
Where do I know her from? Did I meet her last night?
Shrugging off the questions she had no answers to, she finally reached the bottom of the stairs. A beautifully decorated foyer spread out before her, with two sets of double doors on opposite sides and what appeared to be the main entry directly in front of her. Moving towards the open doors on her right, she glanced into what she assumed was the living room, empty aside from the heavy wood and leather furniture that framed one of the biggest fireplaces she had ever seen. With a mantle resting at least six feet above the floor and a chamber pit large enough to sit comfortably in, the surrounding rock face stretched across half the wall. On either side stood a set of double French doors covered in sheer lace with heavy burgundy brocade curtains held to the side by ornate, bronze colored hooks.
What is with all the lace curtains in this place? What’s next? Cats?
It was quickly becoming apparent that whoever owned this house had to be wealthy. Ornately carved wooden cornices framed delicate silver-blue filigreed wallpaper that showcased more formal family type portraits scattered strategically around the room. The only time she had seen a room like this was on episodes of MTV Cribs. And she didn’t even know anyone who would tolerate lace and brocade curtains.
Backing out of the living room, she turned towards the hallway to continue exploring, but a movement caught her eye. Whirling back to her left, she gasped as she saw a woman standing across the room. Long black hair, olive skin, striking green eyes…
Suddenly embarrassed, she realized it was the woman she had just seen in the pictures. Laughing softly under her breath, she smiled and stepped forward. Then froze as she realized she was looking in a mirror hanging above a small, antique-looking table. Confused, she took another step forward. The woman took a step towards her. Gasping, her hand flew up to cover her mouth. The woman in the mirror gasped, hand flying up…
What the hell is happening?
Feeling a little dizzy, she braced against the wall, trying to make sense of something that made no sense at all. Suddenly, there was a loud popping sound and the figure of a man appeared from a cloud of mist directly in front of the main entry doors.
“Holy fucking hell! Who are you? Where did you come from?” Hannah exclaimed, heart pounding out of control as she found herself now plastered against the wall.
“Well now, poppet, while there may be quite a bit of fucking in hell, I can assure you there is nothing holy about it.” Smiling, the man casually inspected the sleeve of his tweed suit jacket, totally focused on brushing imaginary lint off. Suddenly his head jerked up, as if he had just remembered Hannah was there, and a pair of obsidian eyes focused directly on her with unnerving intensity.
“Oh, sorry, poppet. Got lost in a memory there about…well, you know. Yes, well, my name would be Franklin D’Angelo Deveroux, at your service.” Delivered in a proper British accent, head cocked to the side, one arched brow breaking the smooth patrician plane of his face, the man bowed low. Then he beamed again, as if he had accomplished a great feat of introduction.
Hannah gapped, mind whirling in confusion even as she wondered if this was finally it. The worry over her son’s problems, the struggle to repair the now loveless relationship with her husband…her mind must have finally broken from the stress. Yes, too much stress. Just a little brief break with reality, nothing more. Because surely the strange little man hadn’t really appeared out of thin air, right? Because that just wasn’t possible, of course. Hannah was certain there was an explanation, she was nothing if not practical. Taking a deep breath, she opened her mouth to speak, but nothing came out.
Speak, Hannah! Just ask the strange little man for an explanation. Easy, right?
Feeling her vocal cords come back to life, shock had her asking the first random question that popped up amid the whirling chaos in her head.
“Why do you smell like smoke?”
The brow now arched in surprise, his smile turning down as he regarded her with what seemed to be disapproval.
“Now, Hannah, is that really the first question you want to ask me?”
“What?” Hannah replied, feeling a little afraid in the face of that imperious expression.
Sighing deeply, Franklin slowly shook his head.
“Don’t you want to know who you are now?”
Hannah’s confusion, fueled by fear, quickly transformed into anger. “What do you mean who I am? My name is Hannah Kincaid. I know who I am, you condescending asshole! Who the hell are you? Is this your house? What do you want with me?”
Franklin heaved another heavy sigh, a look of pity on his face as he absently rubbed an old-fashioned watch fob attached to his forest green vest.
“Well, someone obviously dropped the ball on this one, didn’t they? This is not going to be an easy conversation, Hannah, so why don’t we go sit…”
Throwing her hands up, Hannah snarled, “Just freaking answer my questions or I swear I’ll be dialing 911 pretty damn quick! Like in the next sixty seconds!”
“Well, okay then, sixty second explanation it is, as you command.” Franklin, sounding even more properly British and looking slightly offended, shot his cuffs and began speaking quickly.
“You are now Lucia Sophia Armendariz, commonly known as Lacy A, an American pop singing sensation. I have already informed you of my name. And no, this is not my house, but it is your house. And I want nothing from you, however, you will find that there is much you will want from me. Does that answer your questions to your satisfaction?”
Rolling her eyes, Hannah snapped, “My name is not Lucia whatever you said. And it’s damn sure not Lacy A or B or C! Not to mention that I can’t sing for shit. So, you better try again, Frank. Truth would be nice this time.” Frustration pushing her fear away, she smirked, “Or do you go by Frankie D?”
“My name is Franklin, young lady! I would never dishonor my mother’s choice by answering to something so crass as Frankie! And I am telling you the truth!”
“Whatever, Frank. Time’s just flying right on by so you better come up with a better story quick. I guestimate you have about ten minutes before the cops get here.”
His eyes narrowed, weird little bolts of light snapping against a fathomless darkness that chilled her from the inside out. “Oh? And where is the phone, Lacy? Even I know you have to physically dial a phone to make a call. So where is it, poppet?”
Suddenly, all bravado left Hannah, a sickening fear swamping her belly at Franklin’s obvious anger. Her legs began to tremble as her mind raced, throwing one terrifying thought after another in rapid succession.
Was he insane? Maybe I’m insane! No, he is definitely insane…
“Neither one of us is insane, poppet. You are simply suffering a little shock…”
“Did you just read my mind? You did! How…who are you…” Hannah heard herself speaking as if from a distance, felt the hysteria blooming as blackness crowded her vision.
Run…no, don’t think! Calm, keep him calm…dammit, don’t think!
Self-preservation kicking in, Hannah felt herself slipping into the same voice she used with Daniel when he had one of his emotional breakdowns. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you, Franklin. Please, I just want to go home now.” Tears clogged her throat as she struggled to remain calm.
Franklin’s expression softened and he took a step back, his tone once again gentle. “Hannah, let’s go sit down and talk. I know you are confused and frightened. Please know I mean you no harm, poppet. There has apparently just been a small misunderstanding.”
“Then let me go.” Hannah’s eyes burned as she pleaded softly. Oddly, his voice seemed to have a calming effect on her. But now she wasn’t so much afraid of Franklin as she was of what he wanted to tell her.
“I cannot. Just listen for a minute and I will explain everything.” Franklin paused, seeming to collect his thoughts before continuing to speak gently. “You died last night, Hannah. A very ugly and extremely premature death at the hands of another.”
Hannah gasped, eyes wide with disbelief as she tried to process his words. Unable to think over the roaring in her head, she could only watch as the intensity of Franklin’s pacing increased with every revelation.
“It was not your destiny to die at this time. In fact, it was not your destiny to die at all. Instead, you were to live another seventy-two years so as to gain the wisdom needed before moving on to your original destiny as an, umm, well…an angel of death, that is.”
Quick pause and even quicker glance at Hannah before resuming his frantic pacing, Franklin continued, “In order to right that wrong, a wrong that has knocked the timeline of the future completely off track, the Reaper has brought you back in the only way he could so that you can solve your own murder.”
Speaking faster now, as if afraid of Hannah suddenly bolting, he continued. “He brought your soul into the body of this young woman, Lucia, who was already destined to die in the very near future. I’m so sorry, Hannah. This should have never happened to you but, unfortunately, it is now your task to solve. Or your soul, and that of many others, will be lost forever. Some of those souls are very dear to you.”
Hannah, gripped by that feeling of being in a nightmare unable to move or breathe or wake up, asked the only thing that had frozen in her mind.
“The Reaper? As in the Grimm Reaper”
Surprise crossed Franklin’s face as he answered, “Yes, Hannah, the Grimm Reaper, Master of the Angels of Death. Formally known as the angel, Azrael. Are you okay with all of this? You don’t seem that surprised, really. It’s a really big thing, Hannah, and not just for the sake of the endangered souls!”
Franklin began speaking even faster, clearly agitated, his pacing now racing in a circle even as the sound of his voice began to fade away, “We do not know who did this awful thing! We do not know why! It is obvious…one…intent on mis…”
Gah, stop stop stop…making me sick gonna puke oh my god no why…
And once again, Hannah’s world went dark.
Literary Baking 