“Other things may change us, but we start and end with family” – Anthony Bradt
Emelyne Sterling was a woman of many words; few actually listened to her. The young F.B.I had helped save many, but what about her? Who saved the young profiler? Where would she get the love she never got from her schizophrenic mother? She was rotting from within, but you couldn’t tell from the outside. And now she is gone. Sometimes the people you’d take a bullet for, are the ones behind the trigger.
48 hours ago
I woke up to the sound of her alarm. I cuddled her and smiled, “Good morning Em and can you please turn that off, just 5 more minutes, promise.” Her head felt muzzy from the sleep and she said, “5 more minutes? Did you know that in every 3.5 seconds a property crime occurs and in every 25.3 seconds, a violent crime takes place? Therefore in under 5 minutes, about 98 crimes take place.” I gave her a look and she understood, “My point being, no, I
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How’s Em? We were supposed to have lunch but she never called. Is she ok? May I speak with her?” “Um… Tate… I’m so sorry. I didn’t want to tell you this over the phone but, Em’s gone Tate. I’m sorry”, she whimpered. “I promise you Tate, I will find out who did this. Meet me and Derek at the coffee shop below Em’s apartment day after tomorrow, 10 a.m.”
This was it, my chance to get the box and possibly execute her. I called up an old friend, “Seymour! How’s it going over there? By the way that email, you sent to Emelyne, was a nice touch.” “Says the assassin. Do you know where the box is though?” “Yeah I do. Her name’s Jess...” “Oh Tate, say no more. I know what you’re going to do. Don’t you ever feel culpable or…” “Don’t even start. Anyway I have to go, busy day. Bye.” After hanging up, I went back to Emelyne’s apartment.
I looked around. I wasn’t sure what I was rummaging for. I looked behind the canvas that oddly hung on the wall in the kitchen. I found a journal. I flipped through the recent