Brynn: Book Two

Chapter One

Pasadena, California, June 2020

     A woman looks out of a window and peers up at the trees. The leaves flutter gently in the cold wind.

     She runs a hand over her slightly bulging stomach and smiles. A little girl runs through the yard outside, plucking daisies from the grass and throwing them up into the air. Her tiny laugh reverberates through the window and the woman sighs longingly. The girl blinks her bright blue eyes and falls to the ground in a fit of giggles.

     A voice from behind her makes her jump. "Daydreaming again?" She turns and looks at her husband. The corners of his mouth are turned up in a silly grin. She returns his gaze and looks back out the window. The little girl is gone.

     Her husband places his hand on her stomach and waits. "Did he kick you again?"

     "She," The woman insists.

     "Bailey, we don't know it's a girl."

     "I do, Shawn." She smiles again. "I know."

     "Okay," he sits down across from her. "Have you come up with a few names?"

     She looks back out the window. "Just one."

     The little girl is back now. Her blonde hair dances in the wind as she blows the seeds of a dandelion.

     "Heather."

Pasadena, California,  March 2027

     Shawn runs his fingers through his hair and paces the kitchen. The man's words bounce around in his head threateningly.

     Do it, Shawn. You have to prove to us that you're ready.

     He fills a small glass with milk and pulls a packet out of his pocket, emptying its contents into the cup. His hands shake so badly a small pile of the powder misses the cup. The spoon tinkles gently against the cup and he sets it down. He grips the edge of the counter and gulps. Taking a deep breath, he searches the drawers for something, anything, to help him complete his task.

     Do it or we will do it for you.

     His fingers find their way around a small steak knife. The black handle feels cool to the touch. He shivers and thinks about every time that he's sat down at the table, Bailey's smiling face as she sets down a steaming hot meal in front of him.

     You have to.

He regains his balance and picks up the cup.

The living room is eerily silent. Its cream colored wallpaper is beginning to peel. He told Bailey he would go to the store to replace it. But that was three weeks ago.

Heather is sitting on the floor, singing to herself as she puts together a puzzle. Shawn holds the knife behind his back and turns the corner into the connecting hallway.

     "Hi, Daddy." She calls out after him.

     "Hi, sweetie." He shuffles past Heather's room and into the master bedroom, a sigh of relief escaping his lips.

He shuts the door. "Good morning," Bailey groans and flips over onto her stomach on the bed. "Did you make breakfast?" Her eyes are closed.

     "Y-y-yes..." Shawn gulps and sits on the edge of the bed. "I did."