Kallisto’s POV

Grandpa Eclipse sent a car for me. I have the envelope in my hand while Todd drives the car, bobbing his head to the music.

A few minutes later, the car pulls to a halt and Todd looks at me in the rearview mirror. "Here you go."

I smile back. "You'll be parked right here when I get back?"

"I can't park here," he tells me, staring out his window. "I'll circle back and pick you up," he says after a pause, his voice sounding distant. 

I hesitate, catching the weird inflection in his voice. "You are driving me back to my coffee shop, right?"

"Ah, yeah, sure." Todd nods towards the building. "Go. You don't want to be late."

Slowly, I nod and exit the car. The tall granite green building contains a bold lettering above the entrance that says 'Fontaine Tech and Innovation'.

I step towards the revolving doors, holding the envelope. A car honks its horn, and frowning, I turn back. I can see Todd parking the car in the once-vacant space.

He honks the horn again.

I lean forward, looking at the dark passenger-side window. If I'm correct, Todd's motioning for me to return to the car. So, I do.

I enter the car and sit in the backseat, leaving the door open.

"Todd," I say, "I haven't gone inside yet."

A group of men dressed in gray emerge from the building, racing towards the car. Quickly, I close the door, and the sound of it locking freaks me out. I look from the door to Todd. 

Gasping, I squint at the driver.

It's not Todd.

A man with black hair and who looks nothing like Todd is in the driver's seat.

The car tires squeal.

"Excuse me," I say, my heart pounding. Terror rushes through me. I grab the door handle, yanking it.

The driver veers in and out of traffic. I look out the back window to see silver cars following us. 

"Put your seatbelt on, ma'am," the driver gruffly orders.

I toss the envelope onto the floor, quickly clipping my seatbelt together. An expensive, gray car drives closer to us and hits the driver's side. Suddenly, electric shocks hit my body, and I see visions of this same car flying into the water.

"No!" My heart is pounding so loud that I shout. "Don't take the Brooklyn Bridge."

The driver looks at me through the rearview mirror, seemingly wanting to say something. However, he quickly turns onto the next street.

Crash.

I look back, seeing one of the gray cars hitting an electric pole.

I watch the driver weave in and out of traffic, heading in the opposite direction. We're in a different section of Brooklyn when another car catches up to us.

The driver continues racing down the street while on his phone. "Boss, he made us...Yeah, okay."

I watch the road. We're getting close to heavy traffic. He does a U-turn, passing the gray cars speeding after us, and my left side hits the door. I wince.

****

Exactly an hour and forty-three minutes later, I read the street sign as the car turns the corner—

Scuttle Hole Road.

I frown, glancing around. "Where are we?"

Fear grips me again—my stomach cramps. However, I'm not feeling the warning sensation I felt earlier.

The driver doesn't respond.

I look out the window at the rows of the most expensive, magnificent homes on one side and a long stretch of beautiful beach on the other.

"Who are you?" I ask.

He ignores me again.

I watch the expensive houses become more sparse, surrounded by mysterious, intriguing woods. Minutes later, the car drives deep into the woods and slows to a halt in front of a monumental, metal-gated entrance that slowly opens, revealing a massive mansion.

I grab my phone from inside my purse, intending to call the police, but of course, my phone ran out of battery.

The driver leaves the car, and although I expect him to open my door, he enters the house instead. Quickly, I try the door, but it's still locked. I hit the window, trying to break it. Unfortunately, I only hurt my hand.

Minutes tick pass in silence. I consider maneuvering into the driver's seat. Yeah, I could get out of the car that way. I slide between the seats.

Shit.

My hips get stuck between the seats, my stomach pushing my internal organs higher. I wince.  It’s too tight for me to pass. 

At that exact moment, the passenger's side door opens and the driver gives me a questioning look.

I hold my breath, maneuvering to the back seat.

"Come with me," he orders, easily opening my door from the outside.

Slowly, I exit the car, my mind running miles per second, trying to think of a way to escape. I am ready to run, however, the driver quickly grabs my arm as if knowing what I am thinking and

escorts me to the house.

I enter the beautifully decorated massive hallway, looking around. The man walks around me, going from room to room. When he returns, he tells me, "Stay in there until someone returns."

I watch him point to the second room to the left. For a moment, I think about my options. Can I run to the front door?

"Ma'am, I'm not asking you," the man says in a threatening tone.

I feel terrified. I study the driver, actually seeing him for the first time. He wears a navy blue suit with a black shirt. His rough beard makes his nose appear broad and flat, and his ears are slightly dog-eared.

"Can you at least tell me your name?" I ask, trying to think of something to say.

He pauses for a minute, looking at me as if he is considering if he should answer me. "Would you like me to escort you?" he asks instead.

Shaking my head, I walk into the second room. The room has mustard color wallpaper and oak trim. The yellow antique furniture is something I'd find in a museum. Quickly, I walk around looking for a landline phone. Some people still have them, right?

Nope. No landline phone.

Pushing the heavy gold curtain aside, I peer out the picture-framed window. I see a stone fountain with a woman pouring water into a small C-shaped pool.  

Slowly, the day's events roll through my mind as I try to determine how I could have done something different to escape this situation.

I gasp.

The envelope.

I sit down on the couch, briefly covering my face. What did I do with the envelope?

I stare up, seeing a natural light bounce off the crystal chandelier.

F*ck Grandpa's envelope. I should be thinking about how I am getting out of here—wherever it is I am.

One of the sliding doors slowly opens. Jumping up, I walk to the door, but there is no one in here. Could it be this easy? 

Without hesitating, I step outside, instantly hitting a "brick wall", bounding backward.

Standing in front of me is Apex, looking down at me with an unreadable expression, and Grandpa Eclipse's envelope tight in his hand.