million

Part I

Who knew it would be so hard to spend a million dollars?

When the doorbell rang, I thought it would just be a normal delivery. I didn't expect to see a frightened man with a huge box of cash. And none of us expected the letter inside to say what it did.

For one, I never expected to win the lottery. Come to think of it, I'd never even bought a ticket. So what are the chances that some millionaire would send a fortune to an average 13-year-old who lives in an apartment in New York, with an average family and a dog? I'd never done anything really special, and I don't think I have any enemies either. I always fly under the radar. Of course, you wouldn't think getting a million dollars is a bad thing, except that if I don't spend it all today, someone's going to kill my family.

"Luke!" I heard my dad call from the kitchen. "Can you come out here for a second?"

"Coming!" I jumped off my bed and grimaced as the wooden frame creaked loudly, then walked down the hallway to the kitchen. "Any news on the package?"

"I called the post office, and they said that no parcel had been delivered to our place today. I'm pretty sure that this is a scam, and I'm guessing the people behind it most likely hired that guy to fake a delivery. I just wish I knew why we need to spend it all."

I thought for a moment. "They must have a motive of some sort."

"I know. That's what I can't figure out. Why couldn't they just spend it themselves?"

"Why don't we just take it to the bank?" I suggested.

My father looked up from what I called his "thinking position," leaning over the kitchen table with his arms crossed and his brow furrowed. "We could do that. We might as well just spend it since we have it, but in that case I'd want to have it on a card."

I walked over to the door, then stopped. "Wait, where are Mom and Cassie?" Cassie was my younger half-sister. She'd probably be at school right now...

"Mom went to pick her up from school, so that we can all stay together. We might need to." Dad looked really worried. This was serious.

"Don't you think we should stay home until they get back?" I asked. "They might worry if we're gone."

"No, it'll be alright," my dad assured me, "we won't be gone for long."

"Alright," I agreed. Patting my dog who had followed me to the door on the head, I told him, "Pilot, stay here bud, okay?" He cocked his head, then sat down under the table, still intently gazing at me.

"Let's go," Dad said.