'Great,' thought Bianca, thumping her Americano down next to her. She had just spilt coffee down her favourite white blouse. 'Whatever ... I was gonna wash it anyway,' she mumbled into the empty room. Bianca Williams was 19 years-old and living alone in a large detached Victorian house, well, almost alone. She was the legal guardian of her 14 year-old little sister Stephanie. Bianca had been left the house in her parents' will after they died last July in an event that had become known as the London Bombings.

'Killed By Terrorists' read the headline on one of the local papers released last summer.

Bianca's eyes began to well up again as she glanced at a photo of the four of them smiling outside Cinderella's Castle at DisneyWorld, Florida. She was supposed to be studying Law at the University of Edinburgh now, she had gotten the grades she needed - 3 A's in Chemistry, Spanish and English Literature and a B in Maths, which could have been an A as well, only she decided not to revise for it, thinking that she would rather get AAAE than BBBB; she needed AAB. Bianca was a clever, sensible girl, hence, she had chosen to defer her place for a year at the last minute, so that she could look after Stephanie in London; she really did have no one else.

A ring at the door brought Bianca back to her senses. It was 15:18, and she had accomplished very little from her day off work. She had been working full-time as a secretary for the local Small Claim's firm, she had been offered a job working in Central London, but declined as the anxiety the idea of getting the Tube every morning was too great.

'Hello is anybody home?' The call came through the letterbox at the front of the house.

'I'll be right there!' Bianca shouted back. She quickly ran to check her reflection in the mirror. Her deep chestnut brown hair was as glossy as ever and her lamenting had given a subtle glow to her cheeks. She smiled, wiping away her tears and thanking Maybelline for waterproof mascara. She raced to the door and peered through the peep-hole; outside was an old man with a red and yellow tie and an expensive looking black tux, much like the one her ex-boyfriend Charlie had rented for their prom. She hadn't seen him in almost a year, since he left to study Chemical Engineering at the University of Birmingham, which wasn't so far that he couldn't visit. Bianca unlocked the door, first at the top, then the bottom, then the main lock and finally by pulling off the chain that she often kept on. 'I can trust this man,' she told herself.

'Are you Mrs. Williams?' The man was holding a large square black parcel with no markings on it.

'Who's asking?' She was becoming increasingly unsettled by this man.

'Are you Mrs. Williams?' Something told Bianca Miss. Williams might not be likely to find out what was inside that box, and her curiosity was burning her.

'Yes, yes I am,' Bianca replied. 'I'm sorry; I've just become overly suspicious of people lately. My mother recently passed away.' She added. Bianca lost her eye contact following these words; she had never known any of her grandparents. In fact, they had always been a bit of a taboo subject with both her parents, and from a young age she had accepted not to ask questions about the deceased.

'I'm so sorry,' Responded the old man placing the parcel on the ground between their feet, 'You have my condolences. My name is Jeffery Thompson.' He held out a hand for Bianca to shake. She glanced into his eyes and cautiously placed her hand in his. 'I am from The Organisation. Perhaps this is a bad time, but I have this package for you if you are interested.'

Bianca was perplexed; 'I'm sorry I don't ...' she began.

'I completely understand,' nodded Jeffery Thompson, 'I'll come back when it is more suitable for you.' He bent down to pick up the black box, turned on his heel and almost completely disappeared.

'No wait!' yelled Bianca, 'I'll take the package!'

The old man smiled, but he didn't walk back to the house. Instead, he simply dropped the parcel onto a particularly soft patch of grass where the Sun happened to be shining. 'By the way,' He shouted back, 'You look a lot like your mum.'