Keeping Isabelle

“Who are you,” I asked as the woman dragged me out of the house by my arm. “Where's Harry?” We walked to the back of a white van, and she opened the back doors, revealing a small space with four seats on each side of the vehicle. There was a man in the front seat, watching us intently.

“Get in.” The lady shoved me inside and climbed in, turning around to face me when she slammed the door closed. “Go,” she said to the driver, patting his seat.

She glared at me.

“Who are you,” I repeated in a small voice. “How'd you get into the Panick Room?”

“We’re friends of Harry's,” the man driving said. “He told us to keep you safe while he was gone.”

“Gone?” I looked from the driver’s brunette head to the brunette girl. “How long will he be gone? Where is he?”

“We’ll explain it all later,” the guy said. I saw the girl take a backpack from under her seat, open it, and slide the gun into it.
She looked up at me, cleaning off her hands. “I'm Eleanor. That's Liam,” she said, pointing to the man in the front. I nodded. “Don’t be scared, we’re friends of Harry's. I worked with him once, at a library. It was quite weird.” She smiled faintly.

Notes