MONDAY, NOON

I went into an empty house. I called out with no answer. I wandered into the kitchen and found a note taped to the fridge.

                “Went to run errands. Weren’t sure when you would be back so we just left. Food in the fridge, we’ll be back by two. Love you.” Beneath “love you” was a smiley face. I smiled and went upstairs. I took a quick shower and went into my room and opened the email.

                “You are getting warmer. Now tell me more about these ‘special people’.” I sent. I sat back in the chair, drying my hair still. No instant return came so I got up and got dressed. I went to my window seat and opened the window. I had a book that I loved and a comfy pillow, so I was ready for a long wait.

                Unfortunately, I was not given the pleasure of waiting. Two pages in, it announced an email. I groaned and got up, setting my book down.

                “It’s hard to explain.”

                “You yourself said that I am clever.”

                “That doesn’t mean it would be hard for you to understand. It is hard to explain in the sense that we are trying to tell you without compromising our position.”

                “It’s not like I care enough to come to you.”

                “That doesn’t matter.”

                “Tell me why I cannot read the letter.”

                “Because you cannot see.”

                “I can see fine.”

                “Not in the way that you need too.”

                “How can I see then?”

                “By reading the letter.”

                “But I can’t.”

                “Good.”

                “You are upsetting me.”

                “And?”

                “You aren’t getting anything unless I have answers.”

                “It’s your turn. How old are you.”

                “Different question.”

                “Where are you?”

                “Nope.”

                “Why do you want to read the letter?”

                “Curiosity.”

                “Fair enough, but that was not a legitimate question.”

                “It was legitimate enough.”

                “Very well. Ask away.”

                “Who did you work for?”

                “What makes you say it in the past tense?”

                “You are on the run because you went against orders, are you not?”

                “An Organization.”

                “Not legitimate.”

                “Legitimate enough.”

                “Nope.”

                “Videns.”

                “Good. I am old enough to be young.”

                “You are not very cooperative, are you?”

                “You are not.”

                “We are both trying to have our way without giving anything; how do you think that will turn out?”

                “In my success.”

                “Think what you want.”

                “I will.” I signed off, cooling down as they had upset me. But now I had their organization’s name: Videns. I set to work researching the company.