The next day, Mort woke up to the smell of French toast. Still half- asleep, he walked into the kitchen, putting his glasses on. Rebecca was at the stove cooking breakfast. Her hair was in a sloppy bun and some strands fell over her eyes.
"Good morning!" She said when she noticed Mort standing there.
"Good morning. What are you doing?"
"Cooking breakfast! Are you always this slow in the morning?"
"Are you always this energetic in the morning? Let me help."
He walked over to her but she said,
"No. I want to do this for you. You're giving me a place to stay so at least let me make breakfast."
"Fine but I'm doing the dishes."
Rebecca walked over to the table and Mort followed. As they ate, Rebecca asked,
"Yesterday, whom were you talking to?"
"You mean the guy at the door? He's just a...friend."
"Wow, I know so much about you already."
"What do you mean?"
"I mean I can already tell that you're a bad liar."
Mort didn't say anything else while they ate. The silence was killing Rebecca. When they both were done Mort scooped up their dishes and set them in the sink. He turned the hot water on as Rebecca asked,
"What did that man want?"
Mort sighed and didn't respond. He didn't want to tell her all that had happened. Desperate to change the subject, Mort said,
"Are all your clothes and stuff at your adoptive parents' house?"
"Yeah. I was going to go get them later today."
"I'll take you."
The car ride to the house was as silent as the meal in the kitchen.
"Do you not trust me?" Rebecca blurted out.
"What? Of course I trust you." Mort said, taking his eyes off the road to glance at her.

"Then who was that man? He's obviously got you spooked!"
"His name is John Shooter." And before Mort knew what he was doing he was telling his daughter everything about the incident yesterday, the story, Amy, Ted and even Chico. "So he killed those people?" Rebecca said. "You believe me?" Mort sounded genuinely shocked. "Because nobody else does." "Of course! We have to do something. I'll help you!" Mort didn't tell her that Shooter said he would kill Rebecca if he didn't turn himself in. "Rebecca, I appreciate you wanting help but I need to do this by myself. Too many people have already gotten hurt." He said. Rebecca heard the seriousness in his voice and knew that it would be useless to try and argue with him. She remained quiet until they get to the house. When they got inside, it took Mort a second to take in his surroundings. The house looked like it had belonged to millionaires. The kitchen was thoroughly cleaned and polished and a crystal chandelier hung in the foyer. Rebecca's room was very spacious. Mort sat at the edge of her plush king-sized bed as he watched he take clothes out of her walk-in closet. "What did your adoptive parents do for a living?" Mort asked, looking at the expensive sheets. "Benjamin was a stock broker and Sally was a photographer." Rebecca said, folding clothes into a suitcase. "I'll be right back. I have to go downstairs." "All right." As she walked downstairs, Mort noticed a picture frame next to Rebecca's bed. In it was a picture of Rebecca. It was when she was a newborn baby at the hospital. She was being held in Mort's arms. A scream came from downstairs. Morton ran out of the room saying, "Rebecca!"

Cliffhanger! - Don't worry more will be added as long as I get reviews!