Page 1 of Turmoil's Target

PROLOGUE

Seraphina

Age 6

With my stuffed bear clutched tightly to my chest, I wander through the quiet halls of Mum’s estate.

It’s been too many days since I last heard Daddy’s voice on the phone, his warm laugh echoing across the ocean all the way from America.

He always calls, like clockwork, but now...there’s only silence.

My toes dig into the plush carpet as I approach Mum’s study door, slightly ajar.

Tiptoeing closer, I peek inside.

She sits hunched over her mahogany desk, cell phone pressed to her ear, golden hair spilling across her face.

Even from here, I can see how her knuckles have gone white from gripping the phone so hard.

Her usual poise cracks, voice pitching higher. “What do you mean there’s no word? It’s been almost a week, Charles. A week!”

A cold, queasy feeling swirls in my tummy.

Daddy’s never been gone this long without calling.

Not ever.

He promised he’d always be there, just a phone call away, even from his important business trip.

Hot tears prick at the corners of my eyes.

Mum glances up, noticing me hovering in the doorway.

She swipes at her cheeks before waving me closer, opening her arms.

I bury my face against her silk blouse as she holds me tight, the floral scent of her perfume mixing with the saltiness of tears.

“Shh, darling. It’ll be all right,” she soothes, but I hear the wobble in her words. “We’ll find Daddy. No matter what it takes, we’ll bring him home to us. I promise.”

I nod against her, praying with all my six-year-old heart that Mummy is right, that Daddy will bound through the door any moment with presents and kisses like always.

But a quiet, scared voice in my head whispers that this time is different.

This time, something is very, very wrong.

Mummy pulls back, taking a deep breath as she smooths my hair. “Right then. No use sitting about worrying. We’re going to hop a flight to America straight away and join the search. Charles will send the jet round within the hour.”

“America?” I echo, eyes wide.

Daddy’s trip was to the States, a place called Las Vegas that Mummy says is full of blinking lights and whooshing machines that eat money. “We’re going to find Daddy?”

“Of course, poppet.” She taps my nose. “He’s probably just gotten himself lost amongst those ghastly casinos. Or perhaps his mobile phone died, the silly goose. Either way, we’ll track him down quick as a wink once we’re there. Now run and fetch your rucksack—and don’t forget Snuggles!”

I dash to my room, determination battling the worry twisting my insides.

Daddy needs us.

I stuff my favorite pink trainers, a jumper, and the stuffed rabbit Father Christmas brought last year into my pack, then race back to Mummy.

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