Thanks for the reviews! I tire easily lately, so it's going to be a challenge to write.

Chapter Two:

"Morning mom," I said as I walked into the kitchen.

"Morning," she said dully. Her eyes weren't fully open as she read her tablet.

"Nightmares again?" I said as I pulled out cereal.

"Yeah."

Ever since dad died, mom has been having nightmares. She wakes me up sometimes, screaming and crying. It always gets bad around this time, the anniversary of when dad. It is three days from now.

"So, what are you doing at school today?" she asked as I poured cereal.

"The usual, sex, drugs, and violence," I said.

"Artemis," she said with a sigh.

"I get sick of saying, quizzes, boring lectures, and doodling Mrs. Gordon's hair on fire."

"I forget teens have such a wicked sense of humor," she moaned.

"Good thing I'm around to remind you," I said. "So, what about you? Teaching kids how to make bunnies or dogs?"

"Dogs these days," she said.

I ate while my mom read her tablet. She rarely ate anything for breakfast except maybe a banana with her coffee. I have no idea how she sustains the energy to chase around kids covered in paint.

"What are you up to after school today?" she asked.

Trapping my stalker.

"Self-defense training with Alex," I said.

"As much as I appreciate you taking initiative to keep yourself safe, I wish you'd sign up for track," she said. "You're a good runner."

"I'm not very competitive though," I said.

"When should I expect you home?" she asked.

No idea.

"Don't make dinner for me. I'll eat at Alex's if I have to."

"Be home by seven."

"Deal," I said.

I drained my bowl, put it in the dishwasher, and straightened my uniform.

"Bye mom," I said and hugged her.

She hugged me back tightly.

"I love you."

"I love you too."

Mom was trying. She was a good mom. Her mind wasn't always with me, as she never stops fighting the haze of grief that surrounds her. A couple coworkers tried setting her up on a blind date a few years ago, and she left before the drinks came. Dad was her true love.

I walked a couple blocks and waited for the metro. I felt eyes on me the minute I joined the crowds waiting for the bus. I didn't try looking for him. I knew better. Soon it would my turn to stalk my stalker.

…

Maribelle was waiting at my locker. A towering amazon of a woman with dark hair, she was my girlfriend who was a year older. Okay, we've been dating for four months and I haven't told my mom yet. I have just been too busy and coming out hasn't been on my radar. I'm not afraid of my mom's reaction as she is super-tolerant, I'm just not good with touchy-feely stuff. I think I get that from my dad.

She presented me a coffee.

"What's the occasion?" I asked.

"Look at the cup," she said.

I held it up and it said: "Prom?"

I smiled.

"Yes!"

We hugged and few people made faces. Fairfield Academy was fairly tolerant, but like in any school, there were still haters.

"I'll catch you later," she said.

As if on cue, my gang appeared. We called ourselves A4, as all our names began with A and there were four of us.

"Guess who's going to prom?" I said waving my coffee.

"Why can't I get a date older than me?" Amy said. "The boys our age are so disgusting."

"Can we focus on the mission?" Alex said.

"We've gone over the plan a dozen times," I said. "It is practically fool-proof."

"But not completely," Alex said. "Are everyone's parental alibis set?"

"Yes," we all said.

"Did you all pack your gloves?"

"Yes."

"Does anybody have any last-minute questions?"

"No," we all said.

"You did a good job," Al said. "Relax."

"I won't relax until this is over," Alex said.

The bell rang.

I walked with Al to our homeroom.

"So, Maribelle is completely in the dark about all this?" he asked.

"She knows I'm after my father's killer and that someone is stalking me," I said. "She's also a cinephile and knows the perps always go after the love interest. She can handle herself in a fight, but she also knows can't beat professionals and the less she knows, the less they can beat out of her."

"Your life is enough of a movie," Al said. "The last thing you need is a lover in the crosshairs. Good for Maribelle."

I ditched my coffee and we took our seats in home room. Just a stifling eight hours until the real action begins.

…

I stayed late to tutor a freshman in Mandarin. I took a detour home to get coffee and approached an alleyway. I felt a hand covered with a rag on my mouth and smelled something sweet as I was pulled in.

There was sound of batons against and I was released. Coughing, I watched as A4 beat the crap out of my stalker with sandy hair, dressed in jeans and a gray hoody.

"So, who sent you, nimrod?" I asked as they brought him to his knees.

"Why would I tell you?" he spat out.

Alex came around and kicked him in the balls. He fell over to his side and moaned in pain.

"There is more where that came from," I said.

He let out a weak laugh.

"You're in way over your head kid," he said. "The people after you won't stop until they get their hands on you."

I leaned closer.

"Why me and what does this have to do with my father?"

"Your father is dead."

I kicked him the chest.

"Liar!"

"I'll die before I tell you the truth," he said.

His face began to turn red. Within seconds, he was dead.

Amy felt for a pulse and opened his mouth. She made a face.

"Cyanide poisoning. Like the spies we read about in WWII."

"His phone is probably a dumby but sync it anyway," I said.

Amy put a gloved hand into the pocket of the jeans and pulled out the phone. She put it against hers.

Al pulled out his ID.

"Roman Sionis," she said.

"Fake," Alex said. "That's the name of a mobster in the movie, Harley Quin and the Birds of Prey."

"Put it back," I said. "Let's move the body behind the dumpster. Al do you have cameras you can set up around here?"

"Yep," he said opening his backpack as Amy and Alex dragged the body.

"We're sure there are no witnesses?"

"The first floors of both buildings are abandoned," Amy said. "The upper floors only have a few tenets. None on this side."

Al planted the cameras the size of tennis balls in different corners.

"Let's get out of here," I said.

We pulled off our gloves and handed them to Alex.

"Well that was interesting," she said as she carefully put them in a bag.

"Not many answers," Al said.

"But the lack of answers speaks volumes," I said. "Honestly, who sends a stalker after a teenager with a cyanide pill in him?"

"I have a few names," Amy said looking at the phone. "I'll start looking them up at home."

"Does anyone else smell smoke?" Al asked.

We turned around to see a smoke coming from the alleyway. Amy started to walk to it, but I stopped her.

"Al, what do your cameras show?" I asked.

"Hooded figures throwing the body in the dumpster and setting it on fire," he said as he scrolled through his phone.

"Deactivate your cameras and don't try to retrieve them," Alex said.

He sighed.

"Good thing I got them on sale."

I watched the smoke. My only lead was already quite literally dead. We had some information, how it would help us, only time would tell.

Spencer:

I was playing a game of a chess in my head when I heard one of my jailers knock against my door.

"You're daughter's a wily little thing."

My heart started racing.

"Leave her out of this!" I shouted.

"We thought you'd like a cellmate, but she got the best of us. Don't worry, we'll get her eventually."

"Please," I said desperately. "DON'T!"

"No one cares what you think," he said and walked off.

Artemisia was nearly abducted. I could barely breathe. Why did they want her now, after all this time? I didn't want to think about it. My only consolation was that my daughter had grown to be smart and strong. Maybe she could beat them.