11

My Mom Gives A Mysterious Call

I ran up the street, getting strange stares from people as I went by. I mean, yeah, I understand, and 11-year-old girl running around an unsafe city like LA isn't something you see everyday (unless you live in Manhattan).

I bursted into the coffee shop. I was supposed to meet my best friend and cousin (kind of - I'll get to it in a second) a half hour ago and instead I had been on the couch reading a book.

"Britt Carstairs." The familiar voice of Julian Blackthorn (my kind of cousin) filled my ears. I turned, facing him and Logan (my best friend).

"Julian, Logan," I said, greeting them each in turn.

"Hi, Britt." Loagn glanced ay his phone. "I mean, we totally haven't noticed that you're trying to play off the fact that you were half an hour late."

"I'm sorry!" I said, taking a sip of Logan's drink. "Yeah," he said, "you can totally have some."

I put it back down on the table and glared at him. "Anyway," I said, "why did you call us here, Julian? I have things to do."

"Because," he said, "Emma asked me to explain everything to you-" my ringing phone cut him off. It was my mom. If I didn't tell her I was leaving or where I was going, she always called to check.

"Look, Mom," I said, "I'll be home soon-" 

"No!" she screamed. I could hear glass shatter through the phone. "You don't come home! Call Emma or Julian or Mrs. Lightwood and tell them that they've found me and they need to take you to the Institute!"

"Mom!" I said. "Who's found you? Are you okay?"

"Remember," she said, "I'll always love you. No matter what." The beeping of the phone hanging up echoed in my head.

"Britt," Logan said, "what's wrong? Is she okay?"

"No," I said, my hands trembling as I dialed Emma's number.

Ring.

Ring.

Ring.

Ring.

"Hi, you've reached Emma Carstiars. Leave a message and I'll call you back!" 

I hung up. 

 I turned to Julian and said, "She said to tell you that they've found her and you need to take me to the Institute."