AMY'S POV

I had a bad feeling ever since I woke up. The funny thing was that I couldn't figure out what it was. I checked the kids who were still sleeping and later on in the day during work, all of the workers and agents in the stronghold. Everyone I knew was still alive with limbs still attached. Several calls or e-mails to my husband overseas, friends, and relatives confirmed that.

Still I could not shake the feeling. It shadowed me throughout the day. Not even a pleasant lunch with Dan and his new fiancé cheered me up, so I decided to just ignore it and continued to drill Dan about when the kids had to go to bed, where the elementary school was, when to pick them up, what to give them for dinner, etc. while I was gone. His fiancé laughed at his expense. For a couple of hours, my uneasiness stayed at the back of my mind.

Then, about midway into the monthly Madrigal meeting, one of my assistants called me out for a second. "Ms. Cahill, you have a call. It sounded urgent," she said, tapping my shoulder.

Irritated, I followed her out of the meeting room telling the rest of the members to continue without me. We walked into my main office neatly stuffed with tons of papers. My assistant motioned toward the landline phone at the corner of my desk. "I asked him to be on hold for a while for me to get you. I'll be in my office if you need me, but I have to go at 8:30."

"Thank you Emily!" I called to her as she was closing the door behind her and got a salute in return.

Sitting as comfortingly on my chair as I could, I picked up the phone with dread. The room seemed to drop a few degrees, and a cold shiver traveled down my spine but not because of the temperature. My neck started to sweat a little. Regardless, I answered with my usual business voice. "Good evening, sir. How can I help you?"

It couldn't be that bad right? Emily didn't tell me it was about Madrigal business, so it wasn't that. It was probably something little, like I forgot to do something. Then again, who would call me at 8 o'clock at night?

"Hello, are you Amy Hope Cahill Kabra?" Ah… so he's part of Ian's group. He had a deep British voice that I've never heard before. The way he said that scared me a little: sad, professional, sorry, with pity, and the scariest of all, routinely. My gut reaction and Madrigal training told me that much. This person, whoever I'm talking to, has done this before, over and over again.

Something was terribly wrong. I knew it was. My invisible morning nightmare returned with full blast and transformed itself into whatever he was going to say.

I stood up and paced around the room, tangling my fingers with the phone cords. "Just Amy Hope Cahill is fine. That's my legal name. What can I do for you?" I asked.

"I'm terribly sorry, ma'am, but your husband has gone missing a-"

"What do you mean missing?" I interrupted. "He's on the plane heading back to Boston right this minute! He called me an hour ago to tell me he's boarding the plane." My stomach twisted and turned achingly as I stared out of my office window at the bright street below, trying to convince myself that this was just a misunderstanding. My head dissolved into chaos.

"That's just it, Ms. Cahill. His jet was sabotaged and crashed into the Pacific Ocean. We found it still floating and airtight, but he wasn't in it- just the pilot and steward both knocked out. The plane is currently in the copper's hands and being towed back to England. All we have are some of his cloths luggage- nothing else out of the usual. No sign of a struggle but there was some traces sleeping gas in the air. We suspect he was captured between the times of seven-fifteen and seven-forty-five, and figured we'd call you first since you are the closest person to him. Do you have any idea where his is, who has him, or what's their motive?"

By then, I froze out of shock. This one, single call shot me down mercilessly. I barely believed him, but I wasn't going to take any chance. There was something bothering me, though. He was one of the Lucians' top agents before he quit to become a Madrigal and would never enter a plane with any type of unusual gas or anything. How could he be so careless?

"Excuse me? Ms. Cahill?"

I raised the phone to my ear from where my hand lowered a bit. "Y-y-yes. I'm here." I could feel myself shaking uncontrollably and hear myself stamper again for the first time in years. No Madrigal or any training could have prepared me for this type of shock.

"Do you have any idea where his is, who has him, or what's the capturer's motive?" he repeated. Immediately, I thought of at least a dozen: Lucians who think he's a traitor, Madrigals who claimed they will never accept him, Ekats, Tomases, Januses, his enemies, my enemies, and everyone in between – except for his fan girls, of course. But I couldn't tell him that. Who knows what his capturers will do to him. Plus, the Cahill branches must remain a secret.

"Nobody, sir."

The man sighed a bit in disappointment and gave me the address of where they were taking the private jet and the police headquarter number. Just asked for Officer Howard T. Jones, he had said since was the lead investigator of it. I hurried scribbled them down on a wad of paper and stuffed it in my pocket.

We ended the conversation quickly.

I did a lot of thinking after that, trying to get my breathing back to normal, clearing my head. Finally, I made up my mind, took out my cellphone, and dialed Dan's number.

"If this is another call from you, Ham, I'm going to kill you. Just because you have genius kids who help you make prank calls, doesn't mean-"

"Dweeb, it's me. I have to go to England." I heard Dan making choking sounds on the other side. What a drama queen.

"What for?"

I gave him a brief summary of what just happened. "And I need you to look after the children while I'm gone."

He protested a bit, saying that it was too dangerous for me and that he could easily get another person to babysit James, Harrison, and Sophie, and blah, blah, blah. But I shot that boat down by reminding him of Linda and when his wedding was.

"Just… stay safe, 'kay?" I smiled despite the horrible situation. My little dweeb has grown so much.

"Promise. Tell the kids… tell them I will miss them and that I have to go on a surprise meeting. Don't say word about you-know-who."

"Fine. I won't say anything about the Cobra Voldemort." I rolled my eyes at this. "When are you coming back?" he added.

I hesitated. "I don't know. Whenever I come back, I guess. I'm going to take the Cahill jet, so cancel your vacation trip to Hawaii."

He groaned on the other side. "Great. But if Linda blows her head off, I'm blaming you."

"Whatever… Well, bye. I'm… I'm going to miss you, you idiot."

"Ditto." I slipped my cellphone back into my pocket and started gathering everything I thought I'll need for the trip. It was now nine o'clock.

I wrote an official note explaining that I wasn't in trouble and who would become the Madrigal leader while I'm gone and signed it with a flourish. After I placed it on Emily's desk, I drove to the place where my husband and I kept the Cahill jet.

As the jet coasted down the runway, I remembered how he went missing in the first place, so when I could walk again, I checked every nook and cranny for something that didn't belong there – anything that didn't belong. Everything was in its place.

I made a quick call to the Kabra mansion and Natalie to announce my sudden arrival. No one questioned me.

Fifteen minutes into the trip I ran out of things to do. Nothing kept my mind from drifting to the countless possibilities of what happened to him – just me, my worries, and the nightmares. I had already lost my parents, Grace, Alistair, Irina, and many other friends; I don't think I could handle it any more if I lost him too.

I rested my head on the window, looking at the dark clouds and stars. The long day began to take its toll on me. Soon, I was half asleep but still thinking.

Why do these things always happen to me of all people? One thing's for certain, though, he's going to be in a heck of trouble when I find him, and when I do, no one's going to save him. Not even his stupid, charming accent and good looks could save him.


Just something that popped into my head as I was trying to think about what's going to happen in my other story. Who knows what boredom brings? Yeah, yeah, yeah. I know I should've been working on the other one, but I couldn't help it. I like it, though. Oh, and just so some of you guy don't get any ideas, Amy's in her early thirties at that moment.

Also, I'm probably not going to continue this. Might in the future, but not likely. Sorry people.

Hoped you guys liked it. :) If you have any time, REVIEW and COMMENT. Constructive criticism is welcome.

~Sepharim