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  Becoming an orphan could have been the worst thing ever to happen to her if she let it. She was determined to live, in honor of her parents, since they didn't have that luxury. And no one, not even Tatiana Volger, was going to influence her into living in fear of what was to come. Lucy had already experienced the worse thing in life, to lose one's parents at such a young age. There was nothing that anyone could do to hurt her more than that. The worst part of her life was over.

  She took one last breath and smiled. As she withdrew inside the window, the crow appeared once again. This time, it was apparently fixated on her with its neck stretched out, head tilted in an apparent effort to understand her. Its eyes grabbed hers and held on tight.

  Lucy shuddered. It couldn't be what she thought—a dark bird, an omen of some kind passed down from a disturbed and jaded woman. The lawsuit, the missing ring—they were all a coincidence. It was all an unexplainable plot dreamed up by Lucy's paranoid head.

  Still, she felt the need to test the creature and her sanity. Standing tall and firm, Lucy slid slightly to the left center of the window. The crow's gaze followed her, its head changing course until aligned with hers. Then, Lucy shifted to the right and waited. Soon after, the crow's body mimicked her movement exactly. It was uncanny and terrifying. Finally, she swiveled around and then backed towards the window. The crow mirrored her actions, every twist, and turn. When done with the odd dance, it remained concentrated on her next move.

  But there wouldn't be one. Lucy knew better than to test darkness, which is what the crow was to her—all that was evil and dark in this world. And she knew in the deepest bowels of her soul, Tatiana had done something to send the crow to her.

  Lucy’s body trembled, and her heart slammed against her chest as if it were the ground beneath a herd of horses.

  Lucy knew instinctively and without question that the evil bird was tracking her every movement.

  A crash shook the second floor of Lucy's house, and she jumped. There were no storms in the area, no lightning, no thunder. She had no idea what it could have been, but she had to find out.

  The only logical explanation in her mind was an intruder. The one who had taken her mother's ring?

  Lucy squared her shoulders. She didn't own any official weapons because guns terrified her. So she grabbed a meat cleaver for protection, even if only in her mind, not that she had any idea what she was going to do with it.

  Just as she arrived at the bottom of the stairs, she saw an object flying through the air, glinting off of the foyer light and then landing at her feet. She bent down to see what it was—her mother's diamond. Lucy quickly retrieved it, putting it on her middle finger, the only place it would fit. She kissed it, silently asking her parents to watch over her, and then headed upstairs to find out what in the world was going on.

  As Lucy slowly ascended the old staircase, she wielded the large knife in her hand. It was an attempt to convince herself she was prepared to confront whoever broke into her house. About halfway to the top landing, she thought she probably should have called the police instead of trying to act like a heroine in one of her fiction novels. Real life seldom worked out well in her current situations.

  Right before she changed her mind, doubling back to grab her phone, a deafening shrill sound echoed around her, practically perforating her eardrums. She instinctively cowered, lifting both of her hands to cover her ears. In doing so, she dropped her only weapon.

  When the noise tapered off, she looked to where the painful sound originated. That's when she caught sight of the crow, its glare unwavering. Lucy knew for certain the evil in its gaze was meant for her and her alone.

  Staring it down now, she could see its eyes so clearly. They were the color of ice, a familiar and haunting vision that began to make sense.

  But before she could react, the crow took off after her, fast and furious. Weightless, its wings unfurled in grand fashion as it propelled off of the top of the landing and crossed the open stairwell.

  Once the crow was inside her house, it appeared to be growing until it was much larger than a normal crow. Lucy blinked several times. She was certain she was hallucinating. Maybe she had too much wine? Though unbelievable, her gut instinct told her that the vision before her eyes was as real as anything.

  In fact, it looked as though the crow was becoming human sized. Lucy couldn't believe her eyes. She had no idea what to make of it all, but she was frozen in fear, unable to move. Even worse, with every inch closer to her, the bird began to morph into a sight that both shocked and horrified her.

  Without warning, powerful bony hands came out of the darkness. They pressed against her chest, pushing her with a tremendous force. Lucy tried to scream for help, but she never got the chance to say a single word.

  It all happened so fast and before she knew it, she had lost her footing. She began careening backward, flying through the air. The nape of her neck smashed onto the wrought iron banister first. As if she were in a wrestling ring, she felt strong arms throw her up into the air until she was fully airborne. She was disoriented as she tumbled in what seemed like slow motion.

  When she was finally able to open her jaw to howl, her right cheekbone exploded on impact with the wall. Several of her teeth skyrocketed across the room as she writhed in pain. Blood spurted violently in all directions as she flipped and flopped in midair, all the while plunging downward.

  In the midst of her body toss, she caught sight of a shadowy figure, now at the top of the landing. It was the same vision that appeared to her in the crow's place, the metamorphosed bird now coming to life.

  Snowy eyes flickered beneath the black hooded cloak and all of her hope evaporated. A long-nailed, crooked finger pointed at Lucy and a jarring screech exclaimed the haunting message she had heard once before.

  "Again."

  Then the world as Lucy knew it faded straight to black.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  WHEN LUCY AWOKE from her unsettling night's sleep, the sight of her popcorn ceiling calmed her. She was in her own bed, resting. Her nightmare about the pending termination meeting that had left her shaken was just that: a dream. She released a heavy sigh of relief. Of course, her brain had created a terrible scenario to address her worst fears, to prepare her for the most unimaginable of situations so she would excel in the real life one. It gave her a sense of confidence for having had the dream. Now, she would be more prepared than ever to handle the day ahead.

  Today would be difficult, of course, but she would come out on top, as she always did.

  Lucy peeled away the covers and then swung her legs around until they landed the floor. She stretched her muscles, slowly waking herself up. Her heart was racing in anticipation, or anxiety, she couldn't tell. As much as she hated firing people, it was something she prided herself on doing well and today's termination would be the hardest of her career. She was ready.

  In the dark room, she heard Whiskers calling to her from afar. It was odd since he always slept on the bed with her, but maybe she had locked him in the closet and didn't realize it.

  Lucy glanced around the room but didn't see her cat. His meow was concerning, a continuous and piercing sound that began increasing in volume. It sounded like Whiskers was hurt or afraid. If either were true, she needed to find him, and soon.

  Lucy moved around the room looking frantically for her baby. She couldn't find him anywhere he frequently hid. As she approached her closet, which wasn't entirely closed, the door swung open wide sending her back a few steps. A blurred image darted from the closet and disappeared under her bed.

  Finding his reaction bizarre, she approached the bed with care. Certainly her cat wasn't afraid of her, so it must be that he was hurt. Taking him to the vet would be a difficult and unexpected task to coordinate today, but she would figure it out. She couldn't just go into work knowing something was wrong. She would need to take care of it.

  Peeking under the bed, Lucy gently called out to Whiskers. But instead of coming to her, the cat
hissed wildly as if in attack mode. She leaned down, reaching her arm to grab him. Then he did the same, scratching her. She recoiled, shocked and taken aback. He had never done anything like that before and Lucy didn't know what to make of it.

  Lucy was bleeding and decided to give it a rest for now. She needed to get ready for work regardless, and would just need to deal with her cat afterward.

  She went into the bathroom and turned on the shower, beginning her usual workday ritual.

  CHAPTER SIX

  THE LOUD NOISE startled Kim straight out of a deep sleep. She jumped, sitting upright and looking around. Then, she shook her husband, as she always did. "Wake up. It's happening again."

  Bill groaned and turned over. "I told you, the pipes in this house are ancient. Stop waking me up for this. It's ridiculous." He rolled on his side away from Kim, pulling the covers over his head.

  "Pipes don't turn on faucets," Kim said. She shook him again. "Get up, please. I want you to take a look at it."

  "I'll get up when my alarm goes off."

  Kim twisted the sheets in her hands. "I can't wait another half hour. I need to get ready."

  "Then, go. What are you waiting for? The water's already on."

  "Don't make fun of me. I'm not going in there until you check it out. I want to ensure it's safe."

  "Really, it's water, Kim."

  "I heard footsteps. Pipes don't make footsteps."

  Bill exhaled. "They aren't footsteps. You're half asleep. Go take a shower and wake me up when you're out."

  "Ugh. I knew we shouldn't have bought this place." Kim was petting her cat vigorously and noting that he seemed a bit high strung this morning. "But, you insisted. You said the house was in a decent neighborhood. You told me that it was such a great price, so much house for the money. That may be true, but at what cost, Bill? I can't live like this anymore. It's not natural."

  "Are we really doing this now? Again?" Bill turned toward her, fury spreading all over his face. "Every single day since we moved in you pull the same crap with me. I have to go to work and deal with people's bullshit all day long. I don't need this nonsense first thing in the morning. It's enough already, Kim. I'm putting my foot down. You need to get over it. Whatever your issues are, you need to understand that this is an old house. Things are going to happen. Floors will creak and we will have odd pipe issues. What do you want from me? This is the only house I could afford when you said you wanted to move. I told you to wait another year so we could get something nicer, but you didn't want to wait. So, this is what we got. Now, you're unhappy and you're making me pay for it with your endless bitching. If I knew this was going to be our life, I would have taken the damn loan from your father and bought the piece of crap new construction you wanted." He slid back under the covers, making a ruckus to get into a comfortable position.

  Kim bristled. She wasn't going to let this argument end without getting her way. She wouldn't give in on something so important. "Well, genius, we got what we paid for, didn't we? Now we have to live with this---this evil for the rest our lives!"

  Bill propelled himself out of bed. "Damn it. Fine, you win. Just shut the hell up about it, okay?" He stomped into the bathroom and turned off the water. "There, the shower is off. And the bathroom is clear. There's nothing in there, or in here, or anywhere else in the house." He shook his head. "You want to know the truth? The truth is that I have to live with your evil mind games and your evil cat for the rest of our lives. That's the only evil in this house. That's it." Then, he stormed out of the bedroom, slamming the door behind him.

  The moment after he left, the shower turned on full force.

  "Bill!" Kim held her cat close. "It's happening again."

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  LUCY MATHESON SHUDDERED as her office door flung open unexpectedly and Tatiana Volger sauntered in.

  Lucy's day continued on, the same as every day, as Tatiana's curse forced Lucy to die again and again and again.

  The End

  A NOTE FROM THE AUTHOR

  Dear Reader,

  * * *

  I truly hope you enjoyed this story! Writing is my passion, and entertaining YOU is my ultimate goal.

  * * *

  If you loved this book, dropping a few words online to say so would mean the world to me. Reviews are everything. They help readers find me, as well as increase exposure for my work.

  * * *

  I’d be beyond grateful if you’d leave an honest review online. Here’s the link where all of my stories live:

  http://www.KristinaRienzi.com/books

  * * *

  Thank you from the bottom of my heart!

  * * *

  All the best,

  Kristina

  Readers mean the world to me, and connecting with them is at the core of why I write. My newsletter is one of the ways I keep my readers updated on my bookish news and author events, offer exclusive giveaways and advanced reader copies, and more. As a thank you for joining my occasional (no-spam) newsletter, I’m gifting you with my short story, Train Girl!

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  Visit this link to sign-up for my newsletter and get your FREE copy of Train Girl: http://www.KristinaRienzi.com/signup

  Get a taste of another short story by Kristina Rienzi, To Preserve, Protect and Defend. The first chapters follows:

  TO PRESERVE, PROTECT AND DEFEND: CHAPTER ONE

  FIONA’S HEART POUNDED in time with the twinkling sequins on her royal blue gown. The word royal swam around her in waves until it settled on an imaginary cloud somewhere up above her head. She twirled in front of the full-length mirror, watching her skirt fly up into the air and back down again. Everything about her shined, from her designer shoes to her polished grin.

  Looking away from her reflection, she caught a glimpse of her mother standing directly behind her and nearly jumped. It was as if she had appeared out of nowhere.

  "Oh, Fiona." Her mother dabbed the corners of her eyes with a handkerchief. "Look at the beautiful woman you have become." She shimmied closer to Fiona until she caught her gaze in the mirror.

  Fiona Rockford was hardly a woman at fifteen and a half. She spoke to her mother's reflection, acknowledging the uniqueness of the moment and adding a dash of sarcasm to her tone. "I'm finally the princess you've always wanted."

  Her mother placed her cold hands on Fiona's shoulders and then leaned in to kiss her on the cheek. They were both fixated on their own reflections now, two diamonds glimmering like the colors of the American flag.

  "You've always been our princess. Now, you belong to our great nation as well." She squeezed Fiona tight. "You're a princess for all of us."

  She couldn't enjoy the moment, she was too annoyed. "Mom, my dress." Fiona wiggled away from the chilly grasp, gooseflesh forming on her arms. Her reaction may have been obnoxious, but tonight was important to her. She was going to be a star on television.

  "Oh, dear. What have I done?" Her mother used her palms to smooth the creases in the satin around Fiona's neckline, trying to reverse the damage done. They both knew her dress was to be admired, not touched.

  Fiona rolled her eyes. "Honestly, Mother. You're the First Lady. Isn't there someone else who can fix my dress? Surely, you have more important things to do this evening."

  Priscilla’s eyes were connected with her daughter, Fiona. When those green irises flickered, her mother’s pupils contracted slightly. For a moment, it looked as though she were wearing contacts meant to imitate cat eyes. "It's called taking care of my daughter, which falls exactly under the definition of my role as your mother. And, you know that no one can be your mother but me."

  Fiona had no right to argue with her mom, especially not on such an important evening for the nation. However, they both knew that someone else, someone Fiona had never met, had also been her mother once.

  The First Lady stood back admiring Fiona's appearance, one that had taken several hours, and many people, to create. Her mother drew in a breath. "Perfection. Sheer perfectio
n."

  Fiona's grin was speckled with innocence. "You don't look so bad yourself."

  No one would argue that she was a spoiled child. She knew nothing other than entitlement in her life, and she wasn't one who ever gave compliments. But, her blatant admiration for her mother tonight was the understatement of the century. Priscilla Rockford was drop-dead gorgeous in the floor-length, crimson silk gown that hugged her tall, slim figure. For a fifty-year-old, she was model worthy, and no different looking than Fiona remembered as a child. There wasn't a wrinkle on her mother's skin, not even a faint line of an impending crow's foot. She had no gray hair either, and as far as Fiona knew, her mother's stylist never touched her with hair dye. It was all natural and breathtaking. Her perfect chestnut waves draped down her back like a Hollywood starlet from the 1950’s. She was a natural stunner.

  On the contrary, Fiona's milky-white complexion and hay-colored locks destined her to remain an ugly duckling forever. Makeup artists and the like could only go so far. When you had tainted genes, there was little hope. Fiona knew this but pretended otherwise. For once in her life, she wanted to be the one who turned heads, even if only in her mind.

  Her mother curtsied before leaving. "Fifteen minutes until showtime."

  When she left, Fiona stood alone with the plethora of staff picking and prodding at her in her new White House bedroom. As the family of Reid Rockford, the former Governor of Nevada, she was no stranger to the black-tie events that accompanied a political existence. Still, no one could have prepared her for the extravaganza of a lifetime—The United States Presidential Inaugural Ball. It was a dream come true for Fiona, and she intended to treasure every single moment she had in the spotlight. Who knew how long it would last?