"Destiny is a name often given in retrospect to choices that had dramatic consequences."
― J.K. Rowling

Liverpool,England; 5:02 PM

Though the residents of Anubis House had finished their homework half an hour ago, the house had been much quieter than usual. No yells, no beeps from Jerome's hand held video game, nothing but the sloshing of tomato sauce in the large steel pot Vera was stirring on the stove. On the opposite burner, a tea kettle whistled, a thin cloud of steam coming from it's spout. Vera, startled, dropped the the long wooden spoon she had been stirring in the sauce. Splashing the bright red tomato sauce down the front of her coral pink sweater.

'The sauce... as red as the blood that will be spilled if the mask isn't found... my blood.' Vera thought.

The night before, Rufus had met her at the library. She could still remember his exact words, telling her he is willing to kill her if she did not find The Mask of Anubis.

Remembering she still hadn't cleaned the tomato sauce off her, Vera grabbed the navy blue dish towel and dabbed at the red stain running down the sweater. Sometimes she wondered how she ever got involved in the first place.

At a quart to six, the residents of Anubis house filed into the dining room. Vera tried to direct her focus on to serving dinner, but could not as hard as she tried. Her mind was far from the kitchen at Anubis house.

After setting the table and setting a steaming hit pot of spaghetti on the table in the dinning room in front of the children, Vera headed upstairs to take dinner to Victor. Vera tapped lightly on the door to his office and Victor jumped a bit, startled by the tapping, as he had devoted all his attention to translating The Book of Isis. She smiled warmly at Victor and set the plate of hot spaghetti and a cup of tea on his desk.
"We NEED that final chapter!" Victor suddenly blurted out in frustration.
"All in good time, Victor... In time." Vera said trying to sooth him.
Vera turned and left Victor back to his studies. She started up the stairs to her attic room.

It had been quite a day. She had woken up entirely paralyzed and could only see and hear Victor, when he found her in the dusty red arm chair. He had kissed her, only on her forehead, but still surprisingly sweet.
'He cares about me...' Vera thought. 'He trusts me... It's all a part of the plan.'