NOTE: Don't worry about the French. The English translation is right after it.
It was Friday, the first week of June, and the second to the last week of school. The bell rang at Crown Pointe High school, signaling the end of another tiresome school day. Nanci's classmates all rushed out of their classrooms, eager to get home for the weekend. Nanci stayed after school to make up some work she'd missed earlier.
It wasn't until about 3:30 that she emerged from class. Nanci walked to her locker, but before she opened it, she realized that she wanted to ask her literature teacher, Mr. Fable, a question. After putting her books away, and grabbing her backpack Nanci turned the corner and made her way to Fable's classroom.
As Nanci drew nearer, approaching the room, she could hear shouting from the inside, but not in English. Intrigued, she gently laid down her backpack against the wall to the side, and she quietly snuck up near to door to eavesdrop. There was something wrong, Nanci could feel it.
There were two male voices speaking, one of them, Nanci recognized as belonging to John Fable. She knew several other languages, and could speak them fluently, including this one, which was French.
“Ecoute, Preston," Fable was saying. "Il n'y a rien de s'inquiet. Je suis maître de cette situation." Look, Preston. There’s nothing to worry about. I’ve got everything under control.
"Tu l'as fait pendant deux ans, et nous n'avons pas vu des résultats. En effet, le Fraternité deviens impatient. Nous ne sommes pas près d'obtenir notre objectif, et nous jetons de l'argent dans l'air." You’ve been doing this for two years now, and we’ve yet to see any results. Frankly, the Brotherhood is growing quite impatient. We’re nowhere closer to reaching our goal, and we’re just throwing our money in the air.
"J'ai un clue. C'est un bon clue." I have a lead; a good one, too. Nanci heard some rustling of papers, and Fable continued.
"Tu vois ? Elle sait ou le Mont de Pierre est situé ; elle doit savoir." You see? She knows where Stone Mountain is; she must know.
"Peut-être, peut-être pas." Perhaps, perhaps not.
"Je vais prendre la fille, Preston. Je la forcerais de nous dire ce que nous voulons savoir." I'm going to get the girl, Preston. I’ll make her tell me what we wish to know, Fable promised. Nanci peeked through the window, just in time to see Fable pull out his gun to show it off and give an evil laugh, a laugh in which Preston joined.
"Très bien, tu as vingt-quatre heures de trouver l'information nécessaire. Ne nous rate pas. Le Fraternité n'accepte pas des fautes." Very well, he conceded. You have twenty-four hours to extract the necessary information. Don’t fail us. The Brotherhood does not tolerate mistakes.
Nanci heard footsteps, and just in time, she ducked into the girl’s bathroom she had passed earlier. Preston came out of the classroom and strolled down the hall out of sight. Nanci was only able to catch a glimpse of his face, but it was enough. Her initial suspicions were confirmed.
Fable remained inside, and Nanci wondered for a moment if she should tell the principal about a teacher having a loaded gun on the premises, or run for her life. At this point, Nanci didn’t know if the principal would even believe her. After all, who’s going to take the word of a student over that of a teacher? And besides that, she was terrified.
So Nanci ran. As soon as she checked to make sure that the coast was clear, she dashed out the nearest exit and ran home without stopping. She arrived ten minutes later, out of breath. After stooping to find the key hidden under a rock in my mother's garden, Nanci let herself into the house.
“Mom?” Nanci called, as she checked in the kitchen. There was no one there, and no reply. “Mom!” she yelled again, a bit louder, and still no answer.
That was strange, because her mother was usually home during the day, especially since their family only had one vehicle, and Nanci's Dad used it to commute to and from work. “I suppose she left with Mrs. Elsel to do some grocery shopping,” she reasoned, muttering to herself, and trying to calm her nerves.
Nanci felt a sense of foreboding, and hated being alone in the house when she knew that someone with a gun was after her. She dashed around to all the doors naking sure they were locked, and then sat on the couch in the living room. Nanci still didn’t relax, so she picked up the phone and dialed a number she knew as well as her own. Tom answered on the first ring.
“Hello?”
“Tom, I’m scared,” Nanci whispered into the phone.
“Why? What’s wrong?”
“Do you remember that report I did on the legend of Stone Mountain? Well, I overheard Fable talking with none other than Preston Devonnes about it. They mentioned something about the Brotherhood, and Fable’s coming after me. He believes I know where this Stone Mountain place is and he’s got a gun. Mom and Dad aren't home and I don’t know what to do!”
“Calm down, Nanci. I’ll be right over, as soon as I can, okay?” Tom assured. Nanci nodded, forgetting he couldn’t see her, but then voiced it out loud.
“Oui. D’accord,” she replied, speaking in French, meaning, “Yes. Okay.”
Tom had heard Nanci say those words often enough so he knew what they meant. He also knew this was serious, because whenever she was nervous or agitated, Nanci would speak French without realizing it, and Tom would have to remind her to speak English. They hung up and Nanci continued to wait in the living room for a few more minutes, scared to move.
Her throat started feeling dry, so she reluctantly got up to get something to drink. Nanci opened the cupboard and took out a glass, filling it up with water from the faucet. She was staring out of the window, over the kitchen sink as she drank, when she heard a noise alerting her she wasn’t alone. Nanci set her cup down on the counter, and spun around, finding herself face to face with Mr. Fable, holding a gun aimed at her head.
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