Page 75 of Luca
Yet, none of it happened today. No mother. No brothers. Just a quiet house. But there was a strange car outside. I knew Da noticed it too.
I glanced at my dad. “Where is everyone, Da?” I questioned.
His brows were furrowed and his expression tight. He was alert, keeping me right next to him.
“Remember, love. Your brothers are at camp,” he said in a calm voice. Yet, it didn’t match his expression. Something was wrong. “It will be just the three of us. We’ll do something special.”
“I forgot,” I grumbled. “I’m gonna miss them.”
The twins and Aiden were super smart and Da sent them to a camp for whiz kids. I let out a heavy sigh. I wished I could have gone with them. I wanted to be smart like them
Father’s big hand came to my head and he pulled on my pigtail. “I know, but they’ll be home soon.”
Glass shattering startled both of us.
My steps were already moving, running when my father’s arms caught me around my waist. He shook his head, his grip on me tight.
“Go outside, Margaret,” he ordered in a hushed tone. “And hide.”
My heart beat fast, hurting my chest.
“Who’s here, Da?” I whispered.
He grabbed my arm and pushed me towards the door, roughly. And Da was never rough with me, only with the boys.
“Go hide,” he hissed in a low voice. “Now.”
Obeying him, I rushed to the door we’d just come through and my steps faltered. I was scared for him. What if he needed my help?
I looked over my shoulder just in time to see Da pull out a gun, then slowly climb the stairs. He kept his steps silent, creeping up. I’d seen guns my whole life, but I’d never seen Da hold one and certainly not use it. The sight of the cold metal had my throat turning dry and my blood running cold.
Remaining glued to my spot, I watched my father’s shadow get further and further from me. Blood roared in my ears and my heart thundered so hard, it hurt. I muttered distorted words of a prayer that Aiden had taught me. I only made it to the end of the first verse when father stopped, then reared back a step.
“What the–'' I could still see him hold his gun as he stretched out his arm. But he wasn’t shooting.
Why wasn’t he shooting if there was a bad guy?
Bang. Bang. Bang.
My father’s body tumbled down the stairs and a scream tore from my lips. Thud. Thud. Thud. It went on and on, Father's big, strong body rolled down the steps forever when in fact it had to be just a few seconds.
He landed on his back, two bullets in his chest and one in his throat.
I stared frozen at the bloodstain blossoming on Da’s chest. Blood quickly pooled around him like a red sea.
He gasped, his eyes on me. Horror. Terror. Fear. I watched my Da’s strong body struggle to move, when steps thudded on the marble floor. Thud. Thud. Thud.
Every sound dulled under the buzzing in my ears.
“R-run,” he gurgled. He fought to live. Struggled to lift himself up, but his body was too weak. Then his frame fell back and I watched the life fade from his eyes.
My blood roared. Liquid dripped down my fingers, and my eyes lowered to find that I dug my nails into my palms so hard I was bleeding.
A pair of black boots kicked at my father’s dead corpse.
“Good riddance,” the old man sneered.
It was then that I finally awoke from my stupor. I shifted around to run but it was too late. A hand wrapped around my neck.
