Lineage

Percy Littleton thus made his fortune. I lay there feeling the water roll beneath me, my eyes shut tight because even thinking of Percy made my insides boil with rage. All I could think about was his wealth, my father's untimely death, and again back to his pails of money. It was how I was found, fists clenched, eyes shut, book over face, knobbly knees sticking out, revenge on my mind.

"Hello there Missy" bellowed a round sailor with a gray uniform holding on to the side of an enormous black ocean liner via ladder. Shocked that I almost didn't notice this rescue attempt, I quickly pulled my wits about me. Cleverly, I responded with "hello sir."

"You seem to be in need of some assistance. I am Bill. Come aboard!"

With that I took his extended hand and was pushed up the ladder and hoisted over the side, with several others there to greet me. Realising that we were probably 30 minutes ride away from shore on a ship like this, and that any details I gave would land me in trouble, I played the traumatised docile mute.

Drinking hot chocolate with a splash of brandy and wrapped in blankets (not that I was wet, but rather it seemed to comfort the others) I sat on the deck plotting my next moves.