With her head bowed, Roxanne shuffled her way along the sidewalk. For the most part, no one took the time to even glance at her. It was still considered early for work at this time in Metro City. The buisness suits and dresses clothed the ones travelling to work. The little children dashing their way towards the schoolhouse. Roxanne took notice of how blissfully aware they were. The world's most sought after person was walking in their midst, and they were so clueless. She foolishly waited for someone to recognize her as she made her way toward the café, but that moment never came.

When Roxanne entered Rosie's Garden, everything seemed to be perfectly normal. The baristas were rushing to fulfill orders. The middle class workers came in, ready to complain how slow it was taking for someone to make their caff macchiato. And there was Rosie standing right in front of her, as usual.

Rosie was only twenty-four years old, but she possessed most popular family-owned café in the city. With her youthful face and short stature, you would think she was instead the daughter of the owner. What made Rosie so unique was her fiery-red hair that so contrasted her sweet nature. The girl's smile was ever so wide that Roxanne wondered if her face was frozen that way. "Roxanne, how wonderful to see you again! I'm guessing you want the usual?"

"Uh, yes, thank you." The brunette reporter was led to 'her' table in the far right corner of the café. Every morning at eight, this place in particular was occupied by the same person who ordered a white chocolate mocha and a peach raspberry yougurt parfait. A person who was used to the same schedule every day of the week. A person like Roxanne Ritchi.

"I'll be right back with your order!" With a wink, the red-head went on her way.

Roxanne slumped in her chair, which was not a usual habit of hers. Frankly, this was not a usual day for her. Learning that the man who cared for her and raised her was dead had taken a toll on her as expected. Considering the circumstances, she could not possibly come into work today. She had called Mr. St. James and told him that she came down with the flu and couldn't possibly come into work for the next two weeks. This was also strange, because Roxanne had never called in to work before with illness as an excuse. To even make the situation more frustrating for her, the reporter had to look within her avalanche of a closet to find modest clothing to wear for the day.

'Not to mention, today's Tuesday. And that can only mean another kidnapping.'

"Here you are, Roxanne! Is there anything else I can do for you, sweetheart?"

Roxanne smiled faintly. "No thanks, Rosie. I'll be fine." Her nose crunched up. "Is it just me or is it quieter in here than usual?"

"Huh? Oh, that! I had Mike turn the television off. The news isn't really going to be watched this early anyway because most of our customers are heading to work at this time! Would you like me to turn it back on?" Before Roxanne could answer, Rosie skipped over to the televison set on the over wall and pressed the power button.

After a few seconds of static, the screen jolted to life.

"...646-2123 if you have any information that will lead to the whereabouts of Anne Marie Warbucks. Also, to those who have been taking part in the search, this will come as a surprise to you. The reward has been considerably lessened to a mere three million dollars. Now, Jim, that is still enough money to get people out on the streets looking for a sign of this girl, but why do you think the price went down?"

"There are plenty of theories that have come up since this announcement was made, but I would like to share one that is the most believeable. Now that Warbucks has died, he is no longer in control of the money. In his will, he left everything to his daughter, who has been missing for almost twenty years! He died believing that she was still alive which might turn out as a foolish mistake. It's been over a week since she inherited all of this money. If she were still alive, she would have came out of hiding and claimed it. This worries everyone who knew the girl, including Miss Grace Farrell. For those who don't know, Miss Farrell was his personal secretary for eleven years before they became romantically involved. Now this very suspicious because right before they made their relationship public, a ten-year-old girl named Anne came into the picture. There is probable cause that Anne is the result of a decade-old love affair between Warbucks and Farrell. However, this has not been proven."

The door to the café flew open, its bell jingling wildly. Rosie turned to see who had entered, but there was no one in sight. She frowned and turned to Roxanne's table, but it was empty.

'6462123! I would know that phone number anywhere! Wayne Scott, I am going to kill you!'