Forlot - Books 1-3 {Completed}

Chapter Ten

The girl noticed us. "I am terribly sorry," she said. "I was looking for my sister and somehow became lost."

I took a step forward. "It is okay," I reassured her.

"I am sorry if I woke you up."

"No, really. It is alright. My brother and I were already awake." I pointed at the front door that was wide open. "Did you open the door?"

She shook her head. "It was like that when I came down the hall." She hesitated. "Although...I did damage your door."

"You damaged the door?" Hansel repeated. "How? It looks fine to me."

I squinted at the girl. She had a red shirt and black pants. Her hair was in pigtails, and she was holding something.

"Is...is that a crossbow?" I said.

She nodded. "With the arrow." She kneeled next to the door and pointed. "I...sort of made a hole in your door."

Hansel and I were surprised.

"A hole?" Hansel went up to the door and gasped. "You are right. There is a hole. But..." He turned to her. "...how did you make a hole like that?"

The girl giggled nervously. "I...I accidentally set off my crossbow...and...the arrow went right through your door."

His eyes widened. "You are not serious."

She rubbed her arm. "Unfortunately, I am." She stared at me. "I am sorry."

"Margie, is it?" I said.

"Yes. My name is Margie."

"Do not worry about the door. Nobody was hurt."

"So..." Margie raised an eyebrow. "...you are not mad?"

"Of course not."

"Yeah." Hansel chuckled. "We are leaving anyway."

"Leaving? Where are you guys going?"

"Forlot," I informed her. "It was our first and favorite home, so we are visiting it."

"Oh."

Hansel and I stepped into the hall, dragging our bags in the process. I turned to Margie.

"I hope that you find your sister."

"Me too."

With that, my twin and I left her.

But not for long.

As we reached the exit door, I stopped and let go of my bag. Hansel noticed my protest and glared at me.

"Why are you stopping?"

I sighed. "We cannot go."

"What? Why not?"

"We cannot go. We cannot leave until we help Margie."

"Help Margie with what?"

"Finding her sister."

"We do not even know her. For crying out loud! She has a crossbow! What kind of girl owns a crossbow?!"

"Hansel, please," I gripped his arm. "We can leave as soon as Margie finds her sister."

"That will take forever!"

"Not if we help her." I picked up my bag and handed it to him. "Go to the bus stop. I will meet you there."

"But..."

I pushed the exit door open, and we saw a bus that was in front of the apartment. The doors to the bus were open, and the man, I am assuming the bus driver, smirked at us.

"Hello," he said. "I am Paul. Paul Robinson."