Honey Springfield was called the Handlers 'favourite' - a nickname she despised right down to the bones of her very existence - almost as much as she despised the woman herself. No one ever looked closer enough to realise that it was given to her fo...
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Upon returning to the radio store a while later after taking a slow, thoughtful walk, Honey was surprised to find it devastatingly empty of all of the Hargreeves siblings save for one.
She pushed open the door and heard something light fall from the letter box. When she shut it behind her, her eyes fell on a small envelope with a wax seal.
Curiously and stiffly, Honey crouched to pick it up, using the door handle to pull herself back up without causing further pain to her leg. Finding nothing on the front or back, she tore it open with her nails and pulled out a small, handwritten letter.
To my pursuers:
I, Sir Reginald Hargreeves, request the pleasure of your company for a light supper on 20th November, 1963, at half past seven o'clock.
1624 Magnolia Street, Dallas, Texas
Her eyes shot up to the clock on the wall. Honey hadn't quite realised the time she had spent on her walk back, and was surprised to find they only had just over an hour to get there permitting the journey.
She rubbed her eyes and headed upstairs, letter clutched in hand.
The smell of coffee filled her senses and left her feeling warm. Releasing a small breath, she entered the kitchen where Five stood tapping his foot and staring down at his mug.
"I'm assuming we're going to this?" She flashed the letter at him.
He snapped out of his daze at the sound of her voice, ceasing the tapping.
Her eyes fell on his white knuckled grip on his coffee and the troubled line at his brow that he attempted to smooth out now he wasn't alone. He straightened a little, dipping his chin.
"Don't have much of a choice," he said. "Dad might be the only one who could give us advice, as much as I hate to admit it."
There was a glum atmosphere settling between the two, but for once it wasn't radiating from her.
Five periodically averted his gaze to the wall or his drink, appearing distant. He looked almost as tired and fed up with everything as she felt. He also had this haunted gleam in his eye the second she brought up meeting with his father, and it left her feeling a bit sad.
Honey glanced around. All of the store lights were off, only a single desk lamp on in the sitting area behind where she stood in the doorway.
"Where is Elliot?" She wondered aloud. The place felt oddly cold without his nervous, chatty presence.
"Off to buy more ingredients for his eccentric recipes, last I heard from Diego."
She frowned a little, leaning against the doorframe to take the weight off her leg. "Where are the others?"
He shrugged, taking a long sip, taking a moment to sigh before responding. "Can't imaging they'll bother showing up."
Honey felt irate and infinitely confused by his family. Nothing they did ever made sense, and they always refused to listen to logic, and she had began to wonder if they did it on purpose just because they could.
