The Last Daffodil

4

4

We had been friends for about three weeks when the knock came.

I was sitting at dinner with my family. We were eating meatloaf and broccoli. The knock was loud and clear.

"I'll get it!" Connor jumped out of his chair and we listened as he pulled the door open.

"Is this the Montgomery residence?" It was a man. I didn't recognize the voice.

"Um... Yeah. Do you want to see my parents?"

"No, actually. So you know anyone name Daffodil Montgomery?" Both of my parents looked in my direction, their eyes full of questions.

"Yeah," we heard Connor say, "she's my sister."

"Excellent! May we speak with her?" We?

"Uh, yeah. I guess."

We listened as Connor came back to the table.

"They want to talk to Daffy." He said as he entered the dining room.

I stood up. So did my mother. She looked worried.

We walked to the entryway together and both saw the people standing outside the door. There was a man and a woman, which explained why everyone kept saying 'they' and 'we'. The man was fat, short, and balding. He had to be even shorter than Quincy, who was only five two. He had a bright red face and watery eyes. He had a gleam of sweat across his forehead, as though the walk from his car to my front door had been a difficult workout for him. He was wearing a very well worn, grey suit with a stained white shirt and black tie.

The woman was a different story entirely.

She was beautiful. Tall and thin, she towered over the small man, her head almost touching the top of the door frame. She had black hair that cascaded down to her hips, delightfully contrasting against her pale white skin. Her eyes were nearly black and glittered in the sun. She had full lips and high cheekbones. She looked professional in a black blazer and black slacks.

My stomach clenched. Everything about these people seemed wrong somehow.

"Are you Daffodil Montgomery?" The man asked.

"Yes." I answered vaguely.

"Excellent!" the man said, rubbing his hands together. "My name is Dalton Cravel and this is my daughter Silvia."

My eyes flicked from the short man to the tall woman, she waved at me and smiled beautifully. "Hi."

"We are lost and looking for directions that we were told you could give." Dalton said pleasantly. "Do you happen to know anyone name Travis or Quincy O'Shea?" His voice seemed to tighten on the names. His eyes clenched, the smile that was glued to his face seemed fake.

"No." I answered without hesitation. He didn't seem to like that answer. The poorly glued smile melted from his face.

"No? How about Aeneas Blackwood?"

I didn't need to lie on this one. I had never heard the name. "No."

"Christiana Carriway?"

"No."

He was glaring at me without a filter now. Anger filled his gaze as his eyes flicked to my mother. I sidestepped so I blocked her from his gaze. No one looked at my mother that way.

"Liar." The man spat, he seemed to be barely holding back from lunging at me and clawing my eyes out with his stubby fingers. I suddenly felt very glad that I hadn't told him about Travis or Quince.