Water vs Blood

The Jackson Mansion

The air nipped at Daphne's arms, the baggy T-shirt with Elmo's face printed on it, doing little to keep her bare arms warm.

"Daphne, you look as beautiful as ever." The woman who lived next door spoke up, rubbing Daphne's arms as if reading her mind and trying to help.

Daphne did like Mrs. Finley, the grumpy old lady did everything to break the rich stereotype for herself. That must be why the two got along swell.

"Thank you, Mrs. Finley, I love the shoes." It was the brightest flip flops Daphne had ever seen. Mrs. Finley gave her a beaming smile and moved Daphne's hair over her shoulder to rest upon her back, looking out into the yard for her husband. Daphne knew what she and Mr. Finley had was real, unconditional love. They met at university by bumping into each other and experiencing love at first sight.

"You're by far my favourite Jackson, just between the two of us." She gave another pat and spotted her husband in the distance. Daphne felt herself give a small grin in return before Mrs. Finley excused herself. She reminded her of what her friend's in school described as their cool "nan" or something. Her grandmother's were nothing of the sort.

"Daphne." Her father's voice called out to her. She hated how her stomach dropped every time he called her name.
When she looked over at him, the sight made her heart leap, but not of excitement.

Two huge men dressed in bodyguard suits stood behind a dark haired stranger. He seemed to have conversed with her rather bleek father.

It was Mid-winter in New York and this man had tanned skin that made him stick out like a sore thumb. Or maybe it was the dangerous aura that followed him that made him stand out. Everyone in the yard was glancing at them every now and then.

He wore neat black dress-pants and a white, briefly open, button-up shirt. His crewcut hair drew her attention to his face. Dark sunglasses covered his face and a toothpick was resting between his lips, his jaw clenched.

He starts to walk away, into the house with his assumed bodyguards following close by. The one bodyguard was bold she noticed. She gave him a glare even though he was long out of sight and hadn't acknowledged her.

"Dad, what happened?" Her eyes reconnected with her father's slightly hunched figure. His eyes don't meet hers. "Who was that?"

"Go to my office. I will be there in a moment." He grabs his handkerchief from his pocket and wipes at his forehead, putting on a pretend smile to show the guests that nothing was wrong and waving them off.

He then took a deep breath and held onto his suit jacket, closing his eyes for a brief moment to gather his thoughts.

"Dad-" Daphne got interrupted by her father's shouting.

"I said go Daphne!" He demanded her with a voice she hasn't heard in a while. It scared her, and brought up memories she wanted to keep forgotten.

Had she done something wrong? Did she finally push him over the edge with her rebellious intentions? Her mind was swirling with what her punishment was going to be. She walked straight to her father office, not batting an eye at the chatty people around her, all as fake as one can be.

She rounded the corner into the office and freezes mid-step, as her eyes spot an unusual site. The strange man with the dark crew cut was in her father's chair, smoking a cigarette. She stared taken aback and astound for a moment too long. The mans eyes were solemnly focussed on her. The two bodyguards left the office and waited outside in the hallway. Her eyes followed them and she found herself frowning.

"My father's on his way, you better leave." Daphne warned the man, still standing in the doorway.

His eyes stayed locked onto hers. His face was void of any emotion and even without his sunglasses on, Daphne could not read a single thing from his expression.