Legacy
Disclaimer:All characters in this story are property of Thomas Harris, except for Mischa...
A little girl sat idly on the porch of an old house. She kicked at the dirt with scuffed red sneakers. Inside the house, her mother was on the phone with someone.
"I told you, Jack, she's not his!" she shouted down the line.
"All I'm asking is for you to get a paternity test done," the man she was talking to said.
Outside, the little girl saw a man approaching the house. She opened her mouth to yell "Daddy!" but the man raised a finger to his lips for silence. She instead raced over to him and hugged him.
"I don't have to tell you anything about my daughter," Special Agent Clarice Starling said, still on the phone. She looked through the dusty window at the man in the yard, who had picked up the little girl and was bringing her inside. Just then, the light caught both of their eyes, reflecting the maroon glints in both Hannibal Lecter and Mischa Starling's eyes.
Author's note: I know, I know, it's short. Review if you want me to turn it into something more than it is.