A/N: The story is not in the third person, it's in first, I only doing it for the prologue.294Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡRaOj77pKmE
P R O L O G U E 294Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡzWPC5GEZDx
Melanie had broken the terrifying news to countless people over years, but that didn't make the process any less grueling. The parents would panic, cry, give over the child then be done. They would go on with their life and she would never have to stare into the same devastated eyes again. But Christian, Christian was different. He was more than mad, he was doing more than crying. He was straight out furious.
"Christian, calm down," she breathed sitting on the swivel chair behind her desk. He was fuming, clenching his fists at his sides. Thunder clapped outside and a lightning flashed into the building.
"How the am I supposed to calm down when my daughter's life is being threatened." She looked at him as tears of frustration glistened in his eyes. She knew that Christian had never been good at dealing with stressful situations, and this must have been the most stressful he's ever been in.
"By containing her, we are protecting this country," Melanie shot back trying to sound more defiant, "It is only best."
That was the wrong approach. A wrong choice; candidly stating that it would be a good thing for his daughter to die was the worst thing Melanie could do. She wished she could grasp the words from the hollow air but it was too late. "Think of it as a sacrifice to save-"
"I am not giving her over."
"If you don't, I will be forced to lock you up and then take her," she said sternly, "Please don't make this harder than it already is," her voice lowered to a barely audible tone,
"Bull, go ahead, lock me up. I don't care what you people plan on doing, I'm not going to let you even lay a finger on her." Melanie folded her lips into a solid thin line. She knew Christian all too well to think that he would give her over. There was always the danger of this happening. And for some reason, it was harder to be forceful with him. Her boss had always said "The people before our people," but it was times like this when she didn't know if she could follow the rule.
Meanwhile, Blakely sat outside the door as the two adults determined her fate. Of course, she didn't know, but she had the strong sense that something was seriously wrong. The shouts and conversation were incoherent but she knew they were about her. She swore she could hear the word daughter in there a few times.
She had been a decently good person, aside from seeming to always frustrate her teachers because of her "attitude", or her streak of detentions, she had this month. That wasn't enough to need to see a government official, right?
The door opened and it revealed her father's bloodshot eyes, frown present on his face, and most of all the look of tiredness rising over all the others.
Something sank in his chest when he looked at his child's innocent face. She was born with a curse, something that wasn't her fault, something that she was supposed to pay for with her life.
He heaved a sigh scratching the back of his neck, "Let's go."
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