Chapter 23

**Bella-Rose POV**

I couldn't sleep. Me, a walking talking sleeping pill on good days. Remember sometimes you feel something in your gut like an alarm yelling at you something isn't right? I'm having that feeling right now and no, it's not indigestion. I thought so too. Took pill just to be sure.

The warning of a tornado is also an adding factor to that feeling. A tornado in Atlanta, which is a rare thing indeed. Someone must have pissed god to show his wrath like this.

Though the tornadoes that touch our city are not as intense as in some areas like Texas, they are called "tornado" for a reason. Add the wind and you have that eerie gothic feel complete. I checked my alarm if it's not time already to get ready for work and it is showing at half past 2 am in morning. It sucks when you have sleeplessness and must wake early for work.

Giving up sleep altogether, I prepared some hot chocolate in hopes of relaxing enough to catch that sleep again. I don't know about sleep but I will be lugging extra baggage along with my usual luggage of ten pounds if this continues.

I sit before my laptop as I devour my hot chocolate. I opted to watch some cat videos to pass my boredom but gave up after watching a couple of videos when the audio is echoing in my empty apartment increasing the icky-factor.

My imagination ran wild as I pictured an owl hooting in the distance. I can almost hear the sound of a cricket chirping away in abundance, the wind howling making that whistling noise through the gap in the windows, a door creaking somewhere nearby. My heart started beating fast. Sweat trickled from my temple. A shiver went through my spine. Why is it so silent all of a sudden? Is it a zombie apocalypse already? I never got to lose my V-card! (I internally cried for my lost opportunity).

A thundering sound coming from the outside, made me scream in the stillness of my bedroom. I laughed at my silly thoughts. Anyway, just to be on the safe side, I checked through my windows to see everything is as it should be. Yup, no runaway zombies yet. Phew!

I then decided to help Google by cleaning out my unread mails, 7532 mails to be exact. See Google, I helped in creating a block size free space in your server. You may award me if you wish so. Don't scoff! As if you never signed up for something and forget to unsubscribe or know how to do it. I'm human ok?

I typed my email id into my Gmail account. "iamfifibel@gmail.com". Trust me, the irony is not lost on me. It's one of those things where you thought you created a cool Gmail account (some decades ago), used it for everything until the day you realised the name you are using is stupid and you couldn't delete the account because of your itch to use the id in all important papers. Ya...I created it in the pre-godmother (Google) era.

I clicked on the "edit" button and then "select all" and moved them to trash. I was on the verge of pressing "remove all" when the top-most mail caught my attention. I clicked on the mail to see if the subject is really what it seems.

[Mail from James to Bella]

To: iamfifibel@gmail.com
From: james.aonal@gmail.com
Subject: take Agatha to the hospital right now!

Melanie,

Got stuck in this goddamn place. All lines are down because of this fucking tornado. I need you to take Agatha to the hospital. ASAP. She fainted while talking to me on the phone. Make sure to tell the doctor she complained about some pain. Take her to the nearest one. I will come as soon as the weather clears. address-
(Atlanta's local address).
I hope you have enough common sense to handle this. I'm counting on you. She is important. If anything happens to her, you will pay the consequences, Melanie. I'm of a mind that you are more attentive to your emails unlike your work and will do as I instructed ASAP. Do this and we will talk about making your job permanent.

James.


I blinked once, twice to check whether the mail is still there. It is. It came 3 minutes back. I checked once more to see the tone of this mail. Yup, no thanks, no can you please. From what I can see this guy is asking his subordinate to help him. How can he get away with such egregious mail at the workplace? In what universe does this guy live to order someone around like this? Whom does he think of himself, President of the United States?

I never saw a rude email along those lines in my career (remember, nana hates technology). This must be the doing of some bored teen or college student to pass the time until the storm dies. Or...a wannabe serial killer to lure innocent (don't snort) girls in. But then, how would he know who is going to get this mail? For that matter, how does he know this email? I looked at the salutation- "Melanie". This Melanie girl must have a similar Mail id as mine and this rude guy must have sent it to me by mistake (Another Fifibel! never thought I would see this day sister! wiping my imaginary tears. Poor girl, she too must be going through life with as much teasing as I had).

I shall tell him to learn some manners and what I think of his mail and where he can shove it. Right along the block, "where the sun doesn't shine". I'm overthinking this, just delete it and be done with it. But...what if? I looked at the content of the mail. What if there really is an Agatha and she is lying unconscious at her home with no one and no medical help nearby? Can I live my life with this on my conscience?

What if she is counting her last breaths now as I think about whether to help her or not? Too deep, I know. But...what's the risk in just checking it? I couldn't sleep anyway. If it was a silly prank by someone, we will laugh it off. And if it's from someone dangerous, well, I can land a mean karate chop. What's life without risks anyway? If one life gets to be saved, then the risk was worth it, don't you agree? The words Amanda said the other day came back to me-live a little.

I tried to call Scott, dad, and even 911, but just as the mail guy mentioned no service. I checked the time, 7 minutes since the mail. I looked at the sky through my windows. Angry clouds have been gathered right at the center. The storm is brewing. It could hit any minute now. I wish I could ask Scott or dad to tag along but time is of the essence if this mail is to be believed. Before I could think myself out of it, I quickly grabbed my pepper spray, some money, my cards, car keys and ran to my car like hellhounds are after me.

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Author's note:

Hello everyone,

1. I'm hoping you are enjoying the book so far. All the emails will be written in clear sentences, unlike in the chat because some of the people (aka me) may not know or understand it. Yes, I will step foot into the 21st century soon before it expires.

For example- tonight instead of 2n8.

2. I created James' account- James.aonal@gmail.com. In the sense, aonal- Aon Air Lines. But surprisingly, when I typed the name of "aonal" meaning in Google (after creating the mail account), the characteristics matched with James' character so much. See, godmother is helping here.

3. I didn't mention the address for obvious reasons.