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“EMILIA GILBERT.”

My face nearly slams into my desk as the loud speaker rings in my ears. I look up to find the rest of the class staring at me. I blink quickly trying to get my bearings, oh right, it was Tuesday morning and I was sleeping in math. Again.

“EMILIA GILBERT. PLEASE COME TO THE PRINCIPAL’S OFFICE.”

Barely comprehending the message, Miss Engles snaps, “EMILIA”, she's clearly upset that I was sleeping again. “What are you waiting for? Get going.”

Blinking once more, I quickly grab my things and head for the door. Two strides into the hall and I come to a halting stop. Someone was staring at me, I quickly whirl around to find a strange man leaning against the wall. He is tall and in a suit; he looks like he's in the secret service. And he is wearing sunglasses, which is quite strange, since not only is he inside but there isn't a ray of sunlight in this cold and rainy weather. They're dark too, I peer into them, looking for any outline of his eyes. Could he be blind? No. He was looking at me, I could feel it... and it feels cold.

“Emilia?”

My brow furrows in confusion. Still not taking my eyes off those glasses, I answer.

“Yesssss…?”

“I’m here to escort you to the office.”

“Uhhhh, what? Who are you? You don’t work here.”

“This way please.”

He began walking. Slowly I follow behind him, keeping my distance in case he decides to grab me and run. He has that vibe about him.

We are going in the right direction at least, but the hairs on my neck are still standing on end. Once there, he opens the door and holds his arm out for me to walk through, like a butler would if people still had those in these parts. My eyes remain on him as he shuts the door behind me.

Turning forward, I find the room empty of Principal Simons, and a strange man sitting in his chair instead.

“Emilia. How lovely to meet you, have a seat.” An english accent greets me, quite rare in the middle of nowhere, New Hampshire.

“Uhmmm” I began slowly, “Who are you?”

“Please sit.” His eyes narrow for just a second and his “t” comes out harsher than it should have, like he is struggling to remain polite.

Anxiety runs through me as I reach for the chair and hesitatingly put my things down. Should I make eye contact?

“My name is Charles Hanover. Your mother has sent me.” He pauses, my heart skips. How did this person know my mother? “There is no easy way to say this but... your mother had to leave town urgently and has asked of me to bring you to London until she has returned. She has already packed your things and we shall leave now."

I bite my lip and dig my fingers into my thighs, everything in me is sinking. My chest suddenly feels like it has a boulder on it. Am I breathing? I get up, and catch myself on the desk. I can't feel my legs.

“Emilia please sit back down, you do not look well." Mr. Hanover catches my arm and eases me back to the seat. Tears began to well in my eyes. Realizing Mr. Hanover still has my arm, I shake him off. He almost looks concerned.

Slowly my mouth twists to form the words. "My. Mother. Left. Me."

I say it again, this time anger pouring through. The chair falls over as I stand.

"Excuse me WHAT THE HELL are you talking about? You, some stranger I have never met or heard of before, somehow knows my mom and you want to whisk me off to London. Last I checked that's called kidnapping and for all I know you are lying. Did you expect I'd go quietly? Who do you think you are? How did you get into this school and where the hell is Mr. Simons? Where the hell is my mother?''

The door bursts open. Mr. Hanover raises his hand, "It is alright Mr. Lambert".

I glare at the man in utter disgust, did he think I was going to have a throw down with his boss who was twice my size?

"Your mother and I have known eachother a very long time, before you were born." He pulls out an envelope along with a little black book. ''Your mother had asked me to give this to you."

Carefully, I pull out the letter and instantly recognize the beautiful loops of my mother's cursive. I would always joke that she could start a business writing personalized invitations.

My love,

I don't know how to explain this. Something has come up that urgently needs my attention. I can't tell you what it is or where I am going. I know that's lame and you must have so many questions that I just can't answer right now. Know I would never leave you unless I didn't have a choice. It breaks my heart to do this to you. Mr. Hanover is a lifelong friend, and has promised to look after you and keep you safe. I know this is all crazy and scary but I promise you can trust him. I have also included this journal. I know it's a silly request, but I was hoping you would write to me in it. So that you can feel like you are talking to me. Please keep it close, as I will be close to you through it. I love you so much. I am so sorry. Soon we'll be together again.

Love always,

Mom

Minutes go by, I can't take my eyes off the note.

“I shall go ready the car, have yourself some minutes to get sorted.” He leaves.

Write to me, I will be close to you. What nonsense was that. You leave out of nowhere and you want me to write in a journal….uuhhhhhhh. Dumbfounded. Yup thats what I am DUMB-FOUND-DED. Wait, phone, right we live in the 21st century. Dialing quickly. "The number you are trying to reach no longer...” WHAT? Tears streak my face.

***

I'm in a limo, a long, black limo, with a bar. I look down at my ripped jeans and hoodie. I'm very underdressed for a limo. Mr. Hanover sits across from me in his nice, grey suit. Tall, dark and creepy is driving. It's three hours to the airport and no one has said a single word except when they asked me what I want to eat and drink. One more hour to go. I place my hands over the notebook. It looks brand new, yet I don't know, it feels older. It's made of fine leather. I flip to a random page. In the corner of my eye I see Mr. Hanover staring at me, as though me flipping through a blank book was the most interesting thing he's seen this year. Quickly, I slam the book shut and meet his eyes. He looks away instantly.

A first class seat, another limo, a new country, and 11 hours later we are pulling into a parking lot surrounded by bushes at least eight feet high. In front of me is an old fashion, red brick, english style mansion smack dab in the heart of London. Through the great wooden door, I am now standing in a hallway with a spiral staircase made of elegant black rails with intricate designs. To my left is a big room full of couches, a piano, mirrors and plenty of artwork worthy of a museum. Right behind me is Mr. Hanover, and Mr. Lambert is still holding the door open. A small, young woman with a red bun approaches wearing an apron.

"Welcome home Sir.” She gives a small nod.

“This must be Emilia, Welcome! My name is Lena” She smiles, a sincere smile, which I really needed right now.

“Come, I shall show you to your room”

Still carrying the notebook and the letter I follow her up the stairs. At the top there is a balcony over the bottom floor and windows cover the walls. It's the middle of the day and even though it is cloudy, the house lights up. The hall is full of doorways and we go to the very last one. The room is stunning; at least four times the size of my room at home. The walls are white with black trim. The floor is light wood with plush white carpets accenting the rest of the room remarkably. The bed frame is shiny and black with a white throw cover. Mirrors line the walls, tiny lights line the ceiling, and in the center is a makeup table that draws the room together.

“Will this do, Miss Emilia?”

I began laughing, first just a little, and then it was more of a cackle. Only seeing the poor girl's face makes me stop.

"Yes this will do.”

"Brilliant! Have some time, Mr. Hanover would like to see you in his study at a half hour.”

“Uhhh. Okay.” And she was off.

If I thought the room was gorgeous, the bathroom is ten times better. I've always wanted a rain shower, who wouldn't. Back in my room, my suitcase is laying open on the bedroom bench. Lena knocks on the door. "Ready Miss?”

She brings me to a black room with polished bookcases along three of the walls and a matching desk.

“Emilia, lovely, please sit.” The lines on his face are softer than before, he looks really tired.

“I take it the room is satisfactory?”

“Yes, your house is beautiful.” I breathe out.

“I know that this is an awkward situation, but I wish to make this as pleasant for you as possible. Anything you want I shall try and provide. You are welcome to the entire estate except my office and quarters. There is a pool on the ground floor and the garden is spectacular. Let Lena know what you like to eat, she overlooks all dining concerns. I am aware that you are a potter, I have ordered supplies. Something for you to pass time. I do not know how long you will be here and have begun looking at schools. Have you any questions?”

“You want me to go to a British school?”

''Is that a problem?”

“No, no, Thank you”

“I have set the pottery room up on the ground floor, would you like to see it?”

“Uhh , yes.”

In the center of the room lo and behold is an orange, Sheffield potters wheel. Next to it is a table full of tools and many different boxes of clay, whiteware and red terracotta.

“There is a kiln at the university nearby. I hope that this is all satisfactory.”

I looked at him in pure shock. “This is amazing, I can't express how thankful I am. Thank you so much.”

I spent the next few weeks with the pottery wheel. It became routine. Twice a week we had dinner out, at a way too fancy restaurant. Lena took me out to explore London a few times. I even tried the pool, even though I've never been much of a swimmer; but who can pass up an indoor pool in a mansion. I miss my mom so much, I think about her mostly when I'm sculpting. Mr. Hanover and I mostly keep our distance except for dinner which we eat together almost every night. Lena has become like an older sister, she has made things a lot easier. I have to start school next week.

I have the black journal my mom gave me. I take it everywhere even though I think it's silly. She asked me to. Holding the book, I flip to a random page, it's all blank. I run my hand over the page. It's soft and smooth. I gaze into the booklet for what seems like hours. Then.... it glows.