The neighborhood is unusually quiet for the night. Two people, a man and woman, are seen in a speeding Corvette in a New Jersey neighborhood, exceeding the speed limit by fifty miles per hour. The two look at each other for a brief moment, but then the man focuses driving upon the road ahead. The woman looks at an opened box with multiple holes in the sides, containing something heavy, in her arms, smiling. She then looks up, and her facial expression shifted from caring to stern. What had happened in the mother's eyes, no one knows.
The man's iPhone buzzes violently. So unnaturally violently that the car itself shakes a bit. Buzz. The man looks over and turns his phone around to its screen. Buzz. He unlocks the phone and answers the call.
"Who are you?!" he screamed. "What do you want?!"
The voice from the phone answered, "Your family's death."
"JACOB, PAY ATTENTION TO THE—"
The Corvette smashed into a tree along the sidewalk. The alarm begins to ring but immediately dies out. The woman immediately crawls out of the vehicle with the box in her arms. She looks at the man, who does not appear to be moving.
She screamed, "NO, JACOB!"
He did not move.
"JACOB! ANSWER ME!" she sobbed.
No movement.
"JACOB! PLEASE!"
The head of the man looks up. The woman could tell he was trying to say something, but he does not say a word. But after some time, it was clear the man was mouthing something. A sign of neglect and hope. A signal for going forth. "Go."
The woman nods and turns away. As if she had no time at all, she began to run along the sidewalk. A tear runs down her cheek. Her emotion turns from dark to darker. Her frown widens into a stern, fierce look, as she runs farther and farther away from the man she had left behind. No feeling at all—not even fear or anger—could change the way she looked ahead. She turns back towards the crashed car; and with all emotion she could muster at her will, she cursed the man who wanted death.
Soon she's arriving at Apartment 5, and places the box in her arms at the front door. She writes a quick note and leaves it alongside the object.
Feeling that her job will do, she turns from the door and runs into two men with the build of football players, who had no color and seemed like silhouettes. They grabbed her and forced her into their Toyota Camry and left the neighborhood.
**************
The next morning, as Samuel Mandel opens his door and breathes in the air of Hartman Road to leave for work, he sees a box and a note at his doorstep. He squats down and opens the box, and gasped at what was inside—an infant, and a note.
The note read:
For Samuel Mandel, at Apartment 5
—Your Sister, Stacy
He looked into the empty street, but saw nothing.
The quiet night is over.
