Saturday, 8:30 am

Rosa admitted to herself long ago she was never a morning person. Every morning she had the toughest time getting out of bed, making herself look decent, have a cup of tea or two, and sit down and watch the news. Her eyelids would feel like weights and try to force her to fall back asleep. That situation has happened many times. The first time, being her daughter, Amelia, finding her face down on the floor and waking up to Amelia violently shaking her awake, nearly panicking.

Rosa cringed. That memory was pushed way back into her mind. Even the first time it happened had impeccable timing. She felt drained and numb after her husband died and she would feel so fatigued that she would fall asleep in the strangest of places. Whenever it happened, Amelia would panic and there were times she grabbed the phone to call for help. Rosa always managed to stop her and reassure her she was alright. From then on, Amelia always made sure that Rosa would get rest and feel energetic enough. Rosa appreciated it. Amelia and Alfred were very energetic and full of life even through hard times such as now.

But she still felt repentant over the fact she had to be looked after already. She was middle-aged, she felt fine despite being overly fatigued.

She made herself a second cup of tea and had half a scone. She never really ate breakfast but due to her daughter's persistent nagging about 'eating to get energy,' she didn't want to worry her so she ate something small every now and then in the morning.

She yawned loudly. Hearing cartoons playing in the background, she assumed Alfred was up. Surprised that he was awake at this hour, she walked to the living room and saw him sprawled out on the couch, wrapped in a blanket, focusing deeply on the television.

"Alfred, did you eat?"

Alfred didn't even turn his head and replied, "Yeah. Mom left waffles for me to toast."

Alfred always insisted on doing things himself to which Amelia complied. Rosa fretted over this, believing that six year olds shouldn't be handling everything on their own. They could accidentally hurt themselves! But Amelia, again, would reassure her that Alfred is a growing boy and is smart.

"Ah, alright," she said, groggily. 'At least he ate.'

She sat down on a separate chair, watching the cartoon playing. She didn't understand what was happening but at least Alfred was enjoying himself. Eventually the show ended and announced another cartoon was going to play next.

"Ugh, boring," Alfred muttered and then reached for the remote. Rosa arched her eyebrows, Alfred growing bored of cartoons? They were just starting at this hour! The boy flipped channel through channel until a news station caught her attention.

"Wait, Al, go back."

"But I don't wanna watch the news."

"Just for one minute then you can watch all the cartoons you want."

Alfred grumbled in defeat and Rosa took control of the remote.

'This just in, Police from New York City have reported the disappearance of twelve year old Emma Maes to be connected to the monthly kidnappings in populous cities across America. Emma Maes went missing on September 1st this month after she didn't return home from a friend's house. Police believe this is connected to the kidnapping of eight year old Emil Steilsson that happened last year also on September 1st in New York City when he didn't return home from school later that day.'

Rosa had forgotten about the monthly kidnappings. Her co-workers would never stop talking about them and they still don't. Every first day of the month, somewhere in the United States, a child was reported missing. None of them were found and Rosa had believed ever since last year that the children were most likely dead. She hated to believe it, but it was evident to her.

'Police across the nation are now suspecting these monthly kidnappings are connected. With this information, Police in Boston are preparing for October 1st to hopefully prevent another kidnapping. October 1st of last year, five year old Madeline Kirkland was kidnapped in the middle of the night from her Boston home. Police now inform parents with children ages five to twelve years old to be careful and not converse with strangers.'

"About bloody time they start realizing they're all connected," Rosa grumbled. Almost everyone she had conversed with about this issue, they believed that the kidnappings were connected because of the continuity with the dates.

"Grandma?" Alfred asked, "Did they say Kirkland?"

Rosa froze. They did say Kirkland. She remembered Amelia insisting that it was a rather common name in the area. But that didn't stop Rosa from having a sickening feeling. "No wonder that name rings a bell…" she says, almost inaudibly.

Madeline Kirkland. The case went viral across the city but quickly stopped since the case swiftly turned cold. No evidence and the parents wished to keep their information disclosed. She wondered why for the longest time. Most people forgot about the case or never even heard of it since it happened all too quickly and became just another kidnapping.

"Grandma?"

"It can't be your teacher, Al," Rosa said. From Amelia's description of the man, he was young and single. There was no possible chance of him having a child.

Alfred stared at her in confusion, "Really?"

"Yes, Mr. Kirkland doesn't have a child I believe." Rosa said. She believed since Arthur was single and was interested in her daughter, he didn't have a child. Of course he didn't.

'Then again,' she thought, 'Amelia does have a child and she's single.'

Apprehension bubbled within her. Anyone could have looked at her daughter and would think the same thing, that she was young and single. Of course they wouldn't think she has a child! She's twenty-two, still very young.

"Alfred."

"What?"

"Don't bring this up with your teacher or anyone else. This is a very sensitive issue, alright?" Rosa explained, looking at her grandson gravely.

Knowing Alfred, she knew he can never read the mood. He smiled widely and said, "So never ever ever ever ever ever ever ever-"

"Speak about it, yes."

Saturday, 10:00 am

The weekends were never quiet at the station. In all of her years working under the sheriff, she came to the conclusion that Saturdays were absolute hell. The phone would ring loudly every few minutes, she would have to send Matthew, bless his soul, out for coffee runs every few hours to try to keep herself sane and awake, and most of all she loathed dealing with difficult clients.

Matthew had just came back with two cups of coffee from a nearby Dunkin Donuts and Amelia sighed in pure bliss.

"Oh Mattie, you're my hero!" she practically moaned as she reached for her cup. Matthew rolled his eyes and resumed his work. Once she put her drink down on the counter, he nudged her.

"You owe me."

Amelia scoffed, "As if, plebian."

She almost didn't notice one of her co-workers swing bag her side of the desk. He leaned in slightly and pointed behind him, "Jones, Sheriff wants to speak with you."

Amelia grumbled and placed her papers to the side. What could Ludwig want from her? She hoped for a brief moment that it would be a raise. She muttered, "Be there in a minute." The co-worker left and then Amelia stood up.

Matthew glanced up at her, befuddled, "What does Ludwig want from you?"

She stared back at him, unreadable expression. "…Promotion?"

He scoffed and rolled his eyes, muttering, "As if."

"Rude. Anyway I'll be back," Amelia said, exiting the receptionist desk. She was well on her way until she ran back to the lobby and exclaimed, "Oh, and for payback for your lovely generosity of getting me coffee, you can take over my calls!"

She laughed to herself and left before she could see Matthew's reaction. Once she reached closer to the Sheriff's door, she changed to a more sophisticated pace. Once she arrived, she gently knocked on the door, making sure to not stain the glass separating them. She could see Ludwig consumed in his work, typing away.

"Come in," He announced.

Amelia slowly, gently opened the door, peaking her head out, "Sheriff, it's me."

Ludwig finally glanced up and nodded, eyes motioning to the seat in front of his desk. "Jones, take a seat."

She complied. As she was doing so, she wondered anxiously what he could possibly want from her. She remembered being incredibly intimidated by him when she was younger. However, she's known this man for so long, Ludwig was almost like a father figure to her. She never admitted it to him, since she thought it would be awkward for the both of them. Amelia wasn't as nervous as she was before, but the intimidation of him still existed within her, her heart hurting as a result. Finally, she asked, "What is it, sir?"

Ludwig was now paying his full attention to her, changing the direction of his chair towards her. He cleared his throat and said, "It's about your day off on the first."

Her heart had stopped. "Oh," was all she could muster at that moment.

"Jones, I respect your father, so much even. He and I have been friends for years. I know you want to pay your respects to him but…" Ludwig faltered. Amelia knew where this was going but she let him continue, "We really need you on the first. It's imperative."

She pursed her lips. She felt she was betraying her father at that moment by not being able to visit her father's grave. She inhaled deeply and asked, "Can I come in in the afternoon?"

Ludwig contemplated, his fingers massaging his chin. He turned his attention to the computer screen, most likely looking up the schedule. He hummed in understanding and looked back at her, "We'll see, I'll let you know. I just want you to know ahead of time."

"Why, though?"

"You've heard of the monthly kidnappings, ja?"

"Yes."

"All I can tell you is that we're expecting the FBI to be involved after the first. They may call before, during, or after the first of October. But I need nearly everyone on duty," Ludwig explained. Her interest peaked at the mention of the FBI. It was nearly every officer's dream to get into the FBI. Most of all, it was her late father's dream. The very fact the FBI was possibly going to investigate this national issue excited her, even the thought of them calling when she was working.

She wheezed, causing Ludwig to appear concerned. Before he could even ask, Amelia responded, meekly, "Oh geez, the FBI. It really has been a year."

"We're slowly getting more evidence." Ludwig stated subtly, "Anyway, Jones, I'll let you know of your schedule within a week. You're not the only one in this situation if that helps you."

Amelia nodded in understanding. She was hoping she would at least have a few hours to go over to the cemetery just to dedicate a half hour at least on the first. But now she couldn't decide to answer calls hoping to the almighty lord it was the FBI or paying respects to her father which she had been doing for the past several years.

'How in hell am I going to tell mom?'

Saturday, 6:30 pm

"You can't do the first? All because of an expected phone call?"

Amelia could only nod, have her lips pursed, and appear just as irritated as her mother. She shrugged and turned to continue helping her mother with dinner to try to avoid further conflict. Eventually, she explained, "Ludwig is confused with everyone's schedules. He basically wants everyone on duty that day."

Rosa sighed noisily. Amelia flinched.

"This is about the monthly kidnappings isn't it?"

She nodded. "Yep."

Rosa muttered strings of words that were inaudible to Amelia. Rosa, in the midst of her suspected complaining, was cutting the vegetables rather violently. Amelia swallowed hard; her mother was terrifying when irritated. She wanted to tell her to ease herself but thought it was best to release her frustration. An awkward air filled the room for several, long moments that Amelia found deafening. Not just because of her mother's murderous actions towards the vegetables, but that her mother's irritation spoke for itself.

Amelia didn't know how to break the silence. That knife hitting the cut board stridently every second was going to make her annoyed as well.

Rosa halted momentarily.

"Speaking of which…" She started, "There was a short, but interesting report on it this morning."

Amelia, caught with interest, turned to face her, "Hm?"

Rosa bit her lip and resumed cutting, not harshly this time, and then softly said, "I'm sure you know since they mentioned the police department…"

Amelia scoffed, having no clue on what she was implying, and cried, "Mom, they say nothing to the receptionists except, like, 'oh these guys are gonna call. Expect the unexpected, Jones!' Bullshit like that, you know?"

Rosa made a noise, appearing somewhat surprised that she didn't know what she was implying. "Ah, well, anyways, you've heard of Emma Maes from, actually, exactly two weeks ago, right?"

"Yeah."

She stopped again and then glanced at Amelia, "They believe it's connected to the first kidnapping, Emil I think his name was."

Amelia's eyes widened with interest, "Oh boy."

"Now they think Madeline Kirkland is part of it, too."

Amelia visibly froze. Memories of the event and everyone's reactions to it came rushing back to her. Everything from how the station was handling it, how she was stuck with calls, how she was unbelievably protective of Alfred for months after. How could she have forgotten such a name?

Especially when she was saying and hearing it every day?

"Wait, Kirkland?"

Rosa's eyebrows rose in astonishment. "You don't remember?"

"No, I do! It just never occurred to me until now."

"If you're thinking it's Arthur, I hardly believe it," Rosa stated.

Amelia was still left in shock. She knew there was a good handful of Kirklands even here in just the city of Boston, but the thought of the young girl belonging to Arthur sent her into this state of shock. "I know, but…god."

There was another pause, but more tense. The frying of the vegetables on the stove became inaudible and mixed with the silence when Amelia dove into deep thought. Madeline couldn't be Arthur's daughter; the man didn't even look like a father. She remembered exactly what the girl looked like after seeing the same picture over and over again, several times a day that month.

She didn't see any resemblance between Madeline and Arthur Kirkland. Therefore, in her belief, there was no chance of them being related in any way. Still, however, the chance of them being related bothered her even more. She knew he was enigmatic. It wasn't just that she barely knew him, but there was something uncanny of him and the image he presented himself.

Rosa brought her out of her thoughts.

"Amelia?" She asked, her voice mixed with concern, "Are you—Do you think it's okay to be doing this?"

"Doing what?" Amelia questioned, confused.

"I don't know…going out with Alfred's teacher?"

"Well—we're not exactly going out," She said quickly, almost sounding defensive, "This is just one date."

Rosa narrowed her eyes at her and then said, firmly, "I know, but I'm worried about the schoolboard finding out. I don't want you to get in trouble."

She reviled that glint in her eyes. Amelia felt small all over again.

"We'll be careful. Who knows I might not like him anyway," Amelia explained, shrugging, "It's what first dates are for."

There was that look again. Inside, she could feel anger was boiling in her stomach. Amelia believed that her mother needed to stop digging into her personal life over and over again.

"He's Alfred's teacher," Rosa asserted matter-of-factly, "What happens if you do like him, Amelia?"

Amelia shrugged, "I don't know. We can't assume or predict anything right now."

"Why are you assuming that Madeline is his daughter, then?" Rosa queried, her voice was increasing with volume.

Amelia nearly jumped at such a sudden question. She turned to fully face her mother, her eyes narrowed in confusion, "What the— Mom, just calm down."

Rosa suddenly flipped the vegetables in the pan aggressively, the sound of searing vegetables infiltrating everyone's ears. Then, Rosa shouted, "I can't because you thought the same with Davie too! You thought you wouldn't end up loving him and now look where you are!"

Everything went quiet and turned cold in that moment. For so long, neither Amelia nor Rosa dared to say that name around each other. It didn't matter if it was said in a positive way; Amelia couldn't handle hearing it either way. Amelia stared at her, shocked, horrified, and livid. She balled her fists and slammed her fist on the counter, grunting in pain.

Rosa quickly turned the stove off and raised her hands in defense, "Wait, Amelia—I—"

Amelia held up a hand, not looking at her, and said, "Just—I'm done. Good night. I don't need to eat."

Neither of them said anything more to each other. Amelia left the room and slammed her door upstairs, loudly, to announce that she was mad and needed to be alone. Rosa drew out a long, heavy sigh and buried her head into her hands. She couldn't believe this was happening. She admitted she let this happen just because she let her emotions get the best of her.

She let her hands fall down her face. That is, until, she saw Alfred poking his head out of the corner of the kitchen wall. Rosa lightly gasped.

"Alfred, how long have you been there?"

"For a few minutes…" Alfred said, meekly, "Am I in trouble?"

Alfred appeared so genuinely dejected that Rosa felt even worse.

"No. No you're not. Just, whatever you heard, please keep it as a secret between your family, okay?" She said, hoping for an approval from the boy. She didn't know how honest and secretive he could be. Children these days were much more honest in her eyes.

"Okay…" Alfred mumbled. He shuffled in closer in the kitchen, keeping his voice low in case Amelia was hearing, "Is mommy mad?"

Rosa nodded, "At me, yes."

"Why?"

"I've said mean things to her and it made her very upset."

"Why did you say mean things to her?"

She sighed quietly and scratched her head. "I don't know, Alfred, I don't know. Grandma is very upset, too."

Alfred then took a seat next to the counter top, letting his head rest on the palms of his hands. He scanned the kitchen, appearing as if he didn't know what to say. Rosa believed the situation was too mature for him, he wouldn't understand. She hoped that the boy wouldn't go around the school and announce what he heard his family argue about. They would get into all sorts of trouble.

"Grandma?" Alfred suddenly questioned, "Who's Davie?"

Rosa's heart stopped. She could hear the blood rushing and her mind rushed for an answer to give to the boy other than the truth. If she told him the truth, Amelia would never forgive her and she didn't even want to know how Alfred would react.

"He's an old friend of your mother's," She said simply, hoping that answer alone would satisfy Alfred.

Of course it wouldn't.

"Did she love him?"

"She did, very much so."

"Where's Davie now?"

Rosa wanted to end this conversation, but she knew Alfred wouldn't be sated until he got some sort of answer. She pursed her lips and looked away, finding food resting on the stove. She hatched an idea.

"…Away," She said firmly yet quickly. Then, in attempt to change the subject, she pointed to the stove behind her and asked, "Alfred, are you hungry?"

Alfred frowned and raised his hand slightly, "But, what does away mean—"

"Are you hungry?"

"Yeah…?"

"Dinner's ready. Eat and let's do your homework, alright?"

She hoped Alfred would never speak or ask of it again. It was just a family secret and nothing more. At least, that's also what she anticipated.

Monday, 7:30 am

Arthur deliberately took Eliza's request. He admitted he was too indolent to shave every once in a while but he thought to himself that little kids wouldn't want to see their teacher looking 'scruffy,' or anyone in that matter.

He yawned loudly as he unlocked his classroom door. He didn't know what was keeping him awake, his tea in his hand or the constant reminder he would have to be enthusiastically peppy in front of his students every day.

He loved teaching, he really did. In fact, he believed he was a born mentor. But he wasn't intending to teach young children for the rest of his life. He wanted to teach in a university but he guessed that small steps mattered most. He enjoyed little ones. Yet, over the past year, it proved a toll on him.

Arthur ran his hand down his face, relishing in the now smooth skin but also trying to keep himself awake. He placed his tea on his desk and a neon yellow post-it caught his attention.

'Here's Amelia's number! Sorry I forgot to give it to you on Friday! Btw, she knows so she won't believe you're creepy by suddenly knowing her number! Hehe!

Daisy'

The hand-writing was incredibly neat and feminine, he applauded her for that. She always signed her name with a heart next to it and a smiley face too. Arthur stared at the number that was written under her name. He suddenly grew uneasy. He absolutely despised texting anyone first, initiating in general.

He turned the post it over, just in case if there was anything else. He knew the Italian woman was sneaky. He was right, there was more writing.

'P.S. I know you won't text her first because you're Arthur hehe. So here's a reminder to tell you to stop being such a wimp and talk to her already!'

'P.S.S. Also don't be a creep. But don't just say hey. That's boring!'

Arthur briefly wondered how much writing she could fit on a single post it note, but she did it. He narrowed his eyes in utter embarrassment. He felt like he was being treated like a child. For one, he totally knew how to flirt. He just didn't do it for the past few years since he was focused on his career and…

Arthur glanced at the picture of the young girl on his desk. He then looked back to the post-it note, filled to the brim with information. He wondered what mattered most to him. His friends, his co-workers, were immensely supportive of him, especially this past year. He knew they wanted the best for him, but he couldn't decide what mattered most, to move on or to stay where he was.

His phone buzzed in his pocket. He grumbled and read the screen.

New Text Message: Daisy V

"Bloody hell, Daisy, I'm this close to blocking you."

Daisy V: Before u read, u better have read the post it on ur desk. I went thru hell and back to try to enter your classroom but I did it in the end! Don't ask hehe. Ok anyway, continuing on since post it notes are tiny, I have more to add. Just one little thing. Stop moping. I know it's hard. But be happy for once. Go on a few dates. Idk do stuff that makes you happy! Anything! We're tired of seeing you so sad! It makes me sad : (! Treat yourself!

Received at 7:35 am

Arthur couldn't help but feel just a smidge irritated by how insistent his friends were being. They didn't know what personal hell he has been going through this entire time. They only understood very little. It sounded like to him they wanted him to forget, but he just couldn't. Yet, he knew that they were right. He knew he was being a downer and antisocial for years even.

He glanced at the picture again. The young girl was smiling warmly and her eyes were so vibrant and innocent. He could never let go of his happiness. But he realized that just maybe he needed to start moving on. He can never forget her but his friends were right. He'll treat himself more often.

With a sudden rush of confidence, he turned his attention back to his phone. He entered Amelia's number and started a message.

Me: Amelia, it's Arthur. Daisy gave me your number. How are you?

He could feel Eliza and Daisy judging his message and saying that it was incredibly boring. Well it was a start.

He placed his phone down on his desk, not expecting a reply so soon. He sat down and grabbed his cup of tea. He was about to look at his agenda for the day when his phone vibrated on his desk, loudly. He nearly dropped his tea right then and there but saved himself. He hoped for a moment it was just Daisy being insistent again.

No, it was Amelia. Amelia F. Jones. Just his luck.

He then realized the time. It was extremely early. Seven in the morning wasn't even early to him, he was used to it. But what was seven in the morning like to Amelia? Did he wake her up?

'God dammit, Arthur, you need to stop being so bloody stupid.'

He opened the text, somewhat relieved to see her reply.

Amelia J: Arthur! U almost gave me a heart attack with your txt haha!

He wondered if this was Daisy in disguise. They acted like each other too much. Her texting was absolutely atrocious, too. Then again, she still was very young. At the thought of that, he felt dirty. This woman was twenty-two and he was thirty. Why he was doing this still? He didn't know.

Amelia J: If u must kno im tired. Work yknow?

Amelia J: I was going to give u my number but Daisy beat me to it!

Received at 7:40 am

Amelia texted a mile a minute. She must be really bored or slacking off work, Arthur concluded. He thought how he should end the conversation, since he would have to teach soon. He knew she would understand but he didn't want to be rude and end it so suddenly.

Me: Good to know it's the right number. Daisy loves to pull pranks on us often so we never know.

Me: I hate to say this but I do have to teach soon. So, sorry if I don't reply fast enough.

Read at 7:42 am

Amelia J: Arthur its totally fine. I would of known anyway

Amelia J: Cant wait for Friday tho! We'll figure out a place l8r

Received at 7:43 am

Arthur felt himself get warm and tense up. Was Amelia flirting or just being nice? Now he couldn't tell. However, he was still surprised at how fast she texted back and even how fast she typed.

Me: Thank you. I'll talk to you later.

He turned his phone on silent and placed face down in order to not be distracted. His students would be filing in soon, ready for the new day and lessons. He reviewed his agenda and lessons until students came in, talking and laughing with each other. He noticed Alfred in the front laughing with Ivan. Arthur thought those two were incredibly strange. Just over a week ago they were fighting and now they were laughing like they had been friends since they were newborns.

He remembered Friday and his picture. The boy was so naïve, so clueless. Arthur didn't know why he felt so uneasy around the young boy. He even felt uncomfortable around Amelia despite seeing her in person rarely. The two were very strange and unsettling. Alfred glanced at him, smiling his infamous thousand-watt smile and waved. Arthur smiled and nodded in acknowledgment. In the edge of his eyesight, he spotted the picture of the young girl once more.

He wondered, briefly, if moving on he was really the right thing to do.

A/N:

Emma Maes: Belgium

Emil Steilsson: Iceland

Madeline Kirkland: Fem!Canada

Davie: Y'all know who he is.

We're finally getting to the main plot and oh man I'm so excited to show you guys. I just love having everything planned out and then keeping people on edge. Love it. Some of you may have noticed there's not much Alfred in this but don't worry there's going to be a lotttt more Alfred involvement very soon. One thing left to wonder is if it's for a good or bad thing : )

Otherwise, school and work have been keeping me busy. Especially with college apps, updates are going to be slow. But I'm definitely not abandoning any of my stories. I'll finish them as time goes.

Thank you all so much for the support! I love reading your reviews and feedback is much appreciated.