Heart of a Traitor

3: My Shot

They let me stay with them. I learn three things within just as many days. First, that they never stay in the same place for long. They're convinced that more monsters will find them if they do, so the longest they ever stay somewhere is one night. Second, that the youngest girl is named Annabeth. She's only seven, much younger than me, and all the way from California. Third, Thalia liked to use to her knife for pretty much everything. Luke also knew how to use it, but only liked to when he had no other choice.

Three days pass. Each one feels like a year. I think of my family every hour. I don't let myself think about how they reacted to finding me gone. I can't. If I do, I'll want to go home. As soon as I think of home, I remind myself about the dream. I can't put my family in danger. My time is running out, but their's doesn't have to be.

On the third day, I take them to another diner. Annabeth couldn't sleep the night before--she was so hungry. Again, I tell them to get whatever they want.

"You can go home whenever you want," Luke tells me, "but if you keep feeding us, I'm gonna pray that you never choose to leave."

The girls laugh, giving me smiles that say they agree with him.

"It's the least I can do," I say.

We spend the next few minutes in silence, looking through the menu. That's when I hear it. The news is playing on the several televisions throughout the restaurant.

"...Alexander Armstrong, the late owner of fifty Apple stores along the east coast, was due to celebrate his fiftieth birthday today," the news reporter was saying.

I had heard people talk about him before. As soon as I introduced myself to someone, their eyes lit up. "Alexander Armstrong's daughter?" they would ask. It was always strange, though. Something people thought of as my most important trait had died before I had been born.

The female news reporter goes on. "Today is also the anniversary of his death, eleven years ago. The family has continued to live in New York since then, up until recently. The youngest daughter, Helen Armstrong, went missing three days ago."

My name runs across the bottom of the screen in capital letters.

Luke glances up at the TV.

I panic. "Hey, I'm not feeling so well."

Everyone looks at me.

"Can we go?"

"We just sat down--" Thalia protests.

"Please." I make it clear in my tone that I'm going to leave with or without them.

On the TV, the news reporters continue to talk about me.

"Alright," Thalia sighs.

They begin to stand up. Slowly. Too slowly.

Out of the corner of my eye, I see my fourth grade photo pop up in the corner of the screen. I run out of the diner. By the time the others find me, I'm down throwing up on the side of the diner.

"What was that?" Luke questions.

"Food poisoning?" Thalia suggests.

"We haven't eaten in days," Annabeth reminds her.

"Stomach flu?" Thalia guesses.

The girls take two steps back from me.

Luke doesn't move. "You told us your name was L. Not Helen."

"El," I tell him as I continue to gasp. "Short for Helen."

"That's not a nickname for Helen!" He cries, exasperated. "You should've mentioned you were an Armstrong."