Mia's POV

I turned my back on Lucy and skipped away down the sidewalk to my home. I hummed to myself as I thought about what I might encounter when I arrive. May, our maid, would probably be there, as she comes on Thursdays. My stepmom might also be there. I shudder at the thought. If she was home, I might not be able to have Lucy and possibly Clara over to study! My grade would sink like the titanic and then my dad would be disappointed in me too. My stepmom already was.

Seeing my house and landscaping makes me grin though. Plants and nature always makes me feel better. I couldn't wait to dig my fingers through the soft soil and plant more in the garden.

My dad always loved to garden, but since it's planting season, I don't see him much right now, leaving me stuck with my awful stepmom, whom I call Isahelle the Terrible.

I got her name from Ivan the Terrible, a dude we learned about in History. But since her first name is actually Isabelle, I changed it to better fit herself.

I push open the gate leading to the house landscaping, and walk down the stepping stone trail that Dad and I made together when I was little.

That thought makes me smile. I remember pestering him about my mom. When he finally got fed up with it, he had said with a dreamy look on his face, "I remember that she was beautiful, in her own unique way. She had your hair, and loved farming and gardening more than anything. But she couldn't stay," he finished, his face falling.

"But why not?" I had questioned. If she really loved him, why did she leave? Why couldn't she stay?

I remember his sad smile as he answered. "I really have no idea. She was very busy though, and didn't have time for a family." With that, the conversation had ended, leaving me wondering why she didn't want us.

SMACK! My head and body collided with the front door. Laughing at my clumsiness, I open the door and step inside, rubbing my swelling head.

"I'm home!" I scream at the top of my lungs. Yelling in the house was one of Isahelle's pet peeves, so I made sure to do it a lot.

"She's not home," a voice says. May comes out of the shadows, nearly scaring the living daylights out of me. Her short jet black graying hair came down to her chin, and she has her regular T-shirt and jeans on, with an apron and multiple cleaning supplies sticking out of the pockets. I like May. She's one of my few friends, even though she's in her mid 40s.

I breathe a sigh of relief.

May nods. Really the only thing we have in common is that we hate the old bat, but it's enough for both of us.

"She left around 1 o'clock this afternoon, without even saying where she was going."

I frown. That's strange. Normally my terrible stepmom likes to torture us with her wealthiness by bragging about all the important people she meets and the fancy places she goes. For her to leave without any explanation is not like her at all.

I push the thought aside for now though. There's one person I want to see right now, and that's my dad.

"That's odd," I say, trying to sound interested. "But hey have you seen my dad? I was hoping he might get done in the fields early today."

May shakes her head. "Haven't seen him all day," she says. "He didn't even come in for a lunch break."

Now that's weird. Dad values lunch above all other things. For him to skip it is insane.  Maybe things got really close to getting done and so he stayed an extra hour or so but then realized that he had more to do than he thought. It seemed preposterous, and completely unlike him, but it was the only theory I had.

Or maybe he got kidnapped, a voice in my head says. "No," I say aloud, then quickly cover my mouth. May lifts an eyebrow, but doesn't say anything.

"I'll be right back," I tell her. I need to check to see if he's still in the field, which should be simple. I just need to peek out the back porch and look for clouds of dust and a huge green combine in the midst of it all.

I dash to the clear sliding door that leads to the porch and slide it open. Nothing in the field out back. Just corn that still hasn't been harvested.

I start to panic. I step out of the house and begin to sprint through the vast garden towards the field, but a skinny figure steps in front of me and I am forced to stop.

"Well well well, look who we have here," a female voice dripping with fake sympathy says. I would recognize that voice anywhere.

Isahelle

I groan, but she's not done with me. She won't let me pass until I listen to her lecture about not yelling in the house or whatever it is this time.

My stepmom eyes me with her beady black eyes, giving the impression of a hawk. Her hair is a light blonde though, making her eyes look evil and out of place. I have no idea what Dad sees in her.

She gives off a weird cackle, which is completely wrong. Isahelle has this awful laugh that makes her sound like an innocent puppy, not like the evil witch she is.

I liked the new laugh better.

"You won't find your father here," she says, playing with a lock of her short blonde hair.

I clench my fists. She obviously knows where he is. I wouldn't be surprised if she was the one who took him.

"What- did- you- do- with- him," I manage to get out through my gritted teeth, pausing between each word.

My evil stepmom just smiles. "I was only acting on orders," she says, and doesn't smile this time, but that quickly disappears and she smiles again.

"Trust me, Mia, you won't find him anywhere in this country," she finished with another evil cackle (seriously, what is up with this lady? She's finally acting like her self!).

I was too upset to even process what she said. Instead, I stupidly lunge at her, with nothing but my bare hands to kill her with.

Isahelle's eyes widen, but in midair she lifts her leg up and kicks me back with a large CLANG!!!

What the heck? Legs don't clang, I think to myself as I fall. I brace myself for impact, and I smack the ground and hear a CRACK as my wrist breaks. Pain flares up my arm, and I cry out as the devil herself stands over me, her foot raised over my nose, ready to break it too.

Her foot comes down, but before I know what I'm doing, my good arm flies up and I block it by grabbing her legs and slamming her to the ground. Huh. ADHD does come in handy sometimes.

I struggle to my feet, and take the sharp shears I had in my pocket for cutting flowers out. Isahelle didn't get up yet, probably just out of shock, and I take the opportunity to grow some plants around her, tying her to the ground. Wait what? I can't just grow plants like that. That should've taken weeks. Weird.

Probably because of the rage I was feeling, I didn't think about it too much. Instead, I focus on keeping her there and running these scissors through her sorry little body.

I approach her, and I think about what I'm about to do. I probably shouldn't murder her should I? That thought makes me falter.

But she took Dad, a voice in my head says, She took him and doesn't plan on returning him anytime soon.

This, though, strengthens me, and I stride over to her and press the point of the shears to her throat.

"Where is he," I say again.

Isahelle goes cross-eyed looking at the shears, but she gulps and answers.

"I- I didn't take him! Just acting on orders from her! Don't send me back to T-Tartarus!"

I loosen my grip on the shears. What's Tartarus? Is it like tartar sauce?

Isahelle struggles against the all-organic bonds I gave her, and I snap out of it and press the scissors harder to her throat. Sand or dust or something leaks out, but I don't stop to think about it.

"Who?" I say forcefully, pressing them even more against her throat.

She yelps and more dust pours out, but answers with a grin. Must've realized that I was going to kill her no matter what, which was probably true.

"The ugly toad lady in pink," she says with that wicked smile.

At the end of my rope, I snap and drive the shears through her heart instead.

I was expecting a scream, or even worse, she would live through my stab, but instead she exploded in my face into yellow dust.

I stop and consider what I've just done. I stand there and think if this counts as murder. Maybe not, because I can say it was self defense. She broke my wrist.

My wrist! My broken arm hangs uselessly at my side, now throbbing with the pain I was blocking out before.

I turn to go inside, maybe get May to help me. I could say that I fell by tripping on a root and it broke. Yeah, that's good. But when I step through the sliding door, Lucy is standing there.

Oh, I think, she must be early.

I start to walk over to her, but she rushes over to me.

"Mia!" she says breathlessly, as if she ran all the way here. "Your wrist!!"

I look down and see it bent in a way that wrists should probably not bend. But when I look back up at her, fear is in her vibrant hazel eyes, and I had a feeling that it's not because of my wrist.

"What?" I ask, scared of what the answer might be. Lucy doesn't scare easily. Whatever scares her is going to make me pass out from fear.

She swallows, and I see tears in her eyes and running down her face.

"My D-dad," she says, shaking all over. "He's g-gone. K-kidnapped. Taken to L-London."

I try to keep my cool, but it's extremely hard.

I look her right in those teary eyes and say,

"Mine too."