Child of a King

Chapter forty-three - Bumblebee

"This is what I need you to do..."

I pressed the phone tighter against my ear, straining to catch every word my sister spoke. The gravity of the situation wrapped around me like a cold, suffocating blanket, making my heart pound so hard I was sure Luca could hear it over the line.

"Has my stuff been moved from Texas?" she asked, her voice sharp with urgency.

I bit down on my nail, a nervous habit that always surfaced when I was feeling overwhelmed. "I overheard Dad talking about it. He said he's been working on it," I replied, my voice barely above a whisper. "B-but when I moved, I brought some of your things. Two of your backpacks, actually."

"The red one?" Her voice shot up, tinged with anxiety. "Did you bring the red one?" she asked again, her tone more urgent, almost desperate.

"Yes," I answered quickly, my own anxiety rising to match hers. "It's upstairs in my bedroom."

"Find it," she commanded, her words leaving no room for hesitation. This wasn't a request—it was an order, one that carried a weight I couldn't fully understand but knew I had to follow.

I slipped out of the bathroom as quietly as I could, my ears attuned to the slightest noise. The last thing I needed was to draw attention to myself. As I tiptoed up the stairs, the phone pressed against my ear like a lifeline, I could feel my pulse thrumming in my temples. Each step felt heavier than the last, the air thick with a tension that seemed to hum in the silence.

Once I reached my bedroom, I shut the door behind me, leaning against it for a moment to catch my breath. My heart was racing, a wild drumbeat in my chest. Pushing off from the door, I made my way to the closet, dropping to my knees as I rummaged through the neatly stacked boxes and bags. My hands trembled as I found the old, familiar red backpack buried beneath a pile of clothes. I pulled it out, the fabric dusty and worn, the memories attached to it swirling in my mind like a distant fog.

"Found it," I whispered into the phone, my voice shaking.

"Perfect. Now, open it and find a white envelope," Luca instructed, her tone leaving no room for questions.

My hands shook even more as I unzipped the backpack, my mind racing back to all the times Luca had warned me never to touch this bag. It wasn't for children, she'd always said, her tone stern and unyielding. But this was different—she needed me now, and that need pushed aside all my fears.

As the zipper slid open, the contents of the bag threatened to spill out. Folders, papers, and old notebooks were crammed inside, a chaotic mess that mirrored the turmoil in my chest. Carefully, I dug through the pile, my fingers brushing against something smooth and crisp.

There it was—a white envelope, slightly creased at the edges but otherwise pristine. I pulled it out, my breath hitching as I held it in my hands. It felt heavy, like it carried secrets far too big for someone my age to hold.

"Got it," I whispered, my voice trembling.

"Good," Luca said, her tone softening just a fraction. "Now listen very carefully, Estella. What's inside that envelope is important, and I need you to deliver it to someone for me."

"Who?" I mumbled, my mind racing with a thousand questions, none of which I could voice properly.

"I can't explain now. We don't have much time." The sudden, loud sound of knocking echoed through the phone, making me jump. My sister's voice took on a strained urgency, and I could hear the tension creeping into every word.

"Hurry up!" A distant, angry voice shouted on her end, sending a shiver down my spine.

"Just a minute!" Luca yelled back, her frustration barely masked. Her voice dropped to a whisper, almost too quiet to hear. "Are you at school tomorrow?"