[i]The man sat at his desk, the quill pen quickly flying across the paper. He usually wrote extremely neat but he was in a hurry. He glanced over his shoulder toward the door, accidentally leaving a slight smudge on the edge of the page. Seeing no one there he quickly went back to the letter. He was near finished. A few quick flourishes later and he was done. He set the pen aside and quickly reread the letter:

[quote]April 26th, 1929.
My Dearest Beatrix,

If you are reading this then I have no doubt met my demise.
To think that only next week you will be coming home from the university. 
I pray that I will be here to great you and celebrate your birth year but I fear that it won't be.

As you know many people asked me to renew my work now that there is an increase of faith in the mystics but I have refused.
You too have asked me why I have stopped before but I have never given you a clear answer. For that I beg your forgiveness.
What you have could not have known is that I have continued some of my work in secret. Just recently I believe I have stumbled upon something that will show that all those years were not for naught. I was going to show it to you when you returned and together reveal it to the world, thus the surprise I had written to you about. However, I fear that it will not be so.

I believe I'm being watched. I don't have time to go into the reasoning but just know I am not being a paranoid old man. (Though, I pray that I am). To ensure that my research does not fall into the wrong hands, I have hidden it in a secret location. Half the map I have enclosed in this package, half I have sent elsewhere for safekeeping. A dear friend of mine will hold onto this for me in case something happens. I have already given him instructions to hold this and to only give it to you a year after I disappear or die. (They will follow you at first to see if you have any knowledge and I dare not involve you in this). Only after the year transpires should he have this delivered to you.

I ask that you forgive me for my secrecy. Looking back there was so much I wish I could have spoken with you about. I swear that if my fears are for nothing and I do see you next week, I will tell all. I will answer all your questions and tell you stories about your mother that you have always begged me to tell. Oh you would have loved her. She was my light, my angel. You remind me of so much of her...

I must go. I dare not hold this off any longer.
Until next week, my dearest.

Regards,

Papa
[/quote]
The man quickly set the paper down. Picking up a worn photograph he looked at the picture. It was of his wife and two daughters. He brushed it gently. Snapping to, he put it inside the paper and folded it up. Picking up another piece of paper he placed both in an envelope. Sealing it he stood and placed it into his coat. Grabbing his hat, he dashed out the door. Little did he know then that he would only have two days to live.  [/i]
---
Satisfied that the young woman was who she said she was, the boy held out the package. It was a bit wrinkled and looked like it had seen better days. There was no return sender and the [i]Ms. Beatrix Brown[/i] was written in an unfamiliar handwriting. He smiled as she took the letter. "You're welcome, Miss," he replied. He would have stuck around for a tip but a glare from the older woman made him decide that he really didn't need one. He took a step back. "'ave a nice day," he said before dashing off. The day was young and he had a lot to do.

Ms. Mortimer glared at the retreating boy before turning her attention to Beatrix. "Well don't just stand there child," she huffed. "Open it." 

There were three things well-known about Ms. Mortimer. One, she had tea every afternoon preciously from three o'clock to three-fifteen and woe to anyone who dared disturb her during that time. The second was her displeasure of young men. [i]Hooligans[/i] She would say. [i]Only seeking trouble.[/i] But the most known thing about her was her insatious desire to know everything. And considering she was a major gossip, it made living with her extremely difficult. 

"Well dear?" She asked closing the door.