A boy of fifteen sat a desk, composing a letter. He was thin, with
white-blonde hair and cold blue eyes. He was on his summer holidays, but he
much rather be at school. He felt as if he were imprisoned. But he was not.
Not like his father.
His father was a captive at the hands of the government. They had taken away the man's life, as well as that of his wife and son. The pair of them were watched by government agents twenty-four hours a day. Their letters were read, their fire watched, their conversations listened to.
The boy hated the government. They were jealous of his family's power. His father had made sure he was invulnerable. He donated generously to all the right causes. He made friends with all the right causes. He married into an ancient, influential, and rich family. He had enough connections to get away (he thought) with anything.
But someone had gotten in the way. Again.Two someones, in fact. Two people no one counted on: a discredited old man, and a fifteen year old with a scar.
Disclaimer: The plot described, characters involved, etc. are property of Mrs. Joanne Kathleen Rowling Murray.
His father was a captive at the hands of the government. They had taken away the man's life, as well as that of his wife and son. The pair of them were watched by government agents twenty-four hours a day. Their letters were read, their fire watched, their conversations listened to.
The boy hated the government. They were jealous of his family's power. His father had made sure he was invulnerable. He donated generously to all the right causes. He made friends with all the right causes. He married into an ancient, influential, and rich family. He had enough connections to get away (he thought) with anything.
But someone had gotten in the way. Again.Two someones, in fact. Two people no one counted on: a discredited old man, and a fifteen year old with a scar.
Disclaimer: The plot described, characters involved, etc. are property of Mrs. Joanne Kathleen Rowling Murray.