Dark Moon Rising

Smiling, she said, “Don’t worry father, I have not done anything you should be concerned about today.”

He sighed relieved. “Won’t you sit down?”

With narrowed eyes, she considered his request for a brief second before rounding the chair. “What did you want to talk about, father?” she inquired and flopped down into it.

“Do you remember what time of year it is?”

She raked her brain for some indication of an event, but found none. “Have I forgotten something?”

“Before I tell you,” he chose his words with care, “I need a promise.”

Her eyes narrowed in suspicion. “What kind of promise? Am I going to like agreeing to this?”

“Probably not,” he paused for a brief second. Kept eye contact to make sure he had her undivided attention, “but it is important, that you cooperate.”

“I can’t,” worry laced her words, “if I don’t know what I am getting myself into.”

He sighed and rubbed his tired face. “Alexandra, please obey the house rules.”

Her fingers flexed and she asked in a flat sour tone, “To which ones do I have to stick now?”

Turning his eyes to the ceiling, he focused on breathing as deep as possible. Why do I have to explain this every time; can’t she just accept and not argue for once? God, if I think of what lengths and measures I had to take to keep her home, it scares the hell out of me. Another deep breath followed before he was ready to confront her.