Prologue

"Give me your money old man!" The thug shouted.

The old man shook his head.

"Give it, or so help me God I will shoot you!"

The old man decided it was best to just do as he was told. He had a wife at home that must be worried sick. He took out his wallet and with his shaking hand, handed it to the thug.

The thug kicked the old man onto the cold hard ground and ran around the corner farther into the alley.

The old man slowly stood up and leaned against the brick wall trying to catch his breath. He heard several gunshots behind him and took off running back onto Main Street too afraid to look back. He ran for ten blocks, not even bothering to catch his breath at this point. When he made it home he leaned up against his gate outside resting and catching his breath finally before entering his home.

Before he walked to the door, there was a red car sitting outside in the driveway. His daughter had come to visit, which means his granddaughter was just inside. He always got excited for his granddaughter but also so heartbroken.

He turned the doorknob walking inside. His granddaughter ran up and hugged his leg. She was shaking and had bruises on her head and arms. He lifted her shirt and pants legs, more bruises. He kissed her forehead, led her to the kitchen table and give her some milk and cookies.

He rushed back into the living room where his daughter was standing talking to his wife. "Why do you stay with him, Kara!?" He growled to his daughter.

"I-I love him, dad." Tears were running down her face.

"More than her!?" He asked pointing to the little girl.

She shook her head "n-no!"

"Then leave him...before it is too late!"

"I can't!" She screamed.

"Then you leave me and your mother no choice. She is staying with us. You are unfit to raise her."

The woman ran screaming and crying from the house. The red car fired up and raced off back down the road.

Soon after, the doorbell rang. The old man answered it and there stood a man on his porch with a small boy by his side. The boy couldn't have been just a few months or a year older than his granddaughter.

"Excuse me, sir, are you Fred Jennson?"

The old man nodded his head.

"Then this is yours." The man handed him his wallet.

The old man was getting ready to ask how he got it but the man grabbed the boy and walked off before he could get a word out.

"Who was it dear?"

"I lost my wallet in town. Some man returned it." He couldn't bring himself to reveal what happened, especially to his wife. She would be riddled with fear and hurt. Not many bad things happened to the elderly couple. They mostly kept to themselves, and everyone adored them.

11 years passed and the old man's granddaughter grew up to be smart and beautiful. He hoped and prayed daily that nothing would tear her up, not even her mother.

He prayed until the day his heart gave out. His final goodbye was never spoken, instead, it was written and sealed in a place only his granddaughter would know where to look.