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Destiny's Daughter




  DESTINY’S DAUGHTER

  A. Sunderland

  ~~~

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  Copyright © 2009 by A. Sunderland

  www.anthonysunderland.com

  Twitter: @ASunderlandsf

  https://www.facebook.com/anthonysunderlandscifiwriter

  Cover art by Lazar K. https://www.elance.com/s/sugarbricks/

  Table of Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Other stories by Anthony Sunderland

  Chapter One

  The Crash

  Dawn paced the spare bedroom floor waiting anxiously for a phone call. She reached for the phone meaning to call, cursing, “Come on! What is keeping you?” She barely managed to restrain herself, knowing that the incoming call would be from a payphone, anonymous, and untraceable.

  She juggled her car keys and wondered whether to set off. There was only two hours left before the scheduled meeting seventy miles away. Should she leave now and hope they would wait for her or call her cell phone?

  Dawn was aware of the dangers inherent in tonight’s meeting, especially just four days before joining the F.B.I’s elite Alien Visitation Investigation Team. It was a post she, and many others, had worked incredibly hard to secure. Everything would go fine without her. She did not need to be there at all. But, Dawn yearned to meet her surrogate mother again, even if for just a few moments.

  No one else had or would see into the strange world this room contained, full of mementos of a time and place long gone. It was a room that could only invoke memories of deep sorrow and loss. She turned to rearrange the décor, straighten the paintings, anything to keep her mind occupied. She nuzzled her face deep into the rich embroidery and opulence of an imperial gown. They did not know that she had this. One day, they would surely discover it missing. It is her guilty secret and the only tangible link to her true mother. Ultimately, it is all that she has.

  The smell, touch, and feel of the gown infused with her mother’s odor lulled Dawn into a somnolent state, and feeling the warmth of belonging, she had drifted away dreaming of happier times to come. Dawn would burst with pride seeing her mother stand tall, graceful, and regal, taking her rightful place among her people, in this very gown.

  She dared to dream of all the time they would get to spend together. They would share tears of joy for themselves and an ocean of tears for those lost, and left behind. They would mourn those who had set out on this momentous journey and never arrived.

  She knew her mother could never move into a strange environment in an unknown city with a daughter she had never met. How could it even begin to equal the luxury and splendor the older woman would rightfully expect? Dawn would have to act as an older sister, guiding her own mother through the new life and the new experiences she would have to face.

  The shrill warble of a phone snapped her back to reality. Dawn grabbed for the phone, entangled in the gown, unable to see or reach it, she stretched out a hand. With one foot caught in the folds of the gown, she stumbled and grabbed for the phone as she fell to the floor. The terrible sound of ripping fabric snapped her awake. She cursed the damage to the irreplaceable gown.