Charlotte

Delilah and Juniper were our neighbors. They had an older brother named James. He helped out at the bakery that their family owned. Everyone thought that was odd since he was a strong guy, but he chose to use his strength to lift huge cake pans and bags of flour in the family business.

We walked up to the Patterson's door, then knocked. Delilah came to the door a few moments later, her younger sister, Juniper, following. Delilah was wearing an apron, so I assumed that she had been helping her mother cook. She was thirteen, like me, but instead of being blonde with blue eyes, she had red hair and brown eyes.

“Well, if it isn’t Charlotte Jones, and the youngster, Madam Rose,” she said as she opened the door.

“Hello, Delilah,” I replied. “Rose and I were wondering if you and Juniper wanted to come and play in the meadow?”

“Oh... I’m sorry, Charlotte, but I’ve got to help Mother cook dinner. Little June finished all her chores for the day, though. Could you just make sure she’s back by sundown?”

“Of course,” I said. I was sad that Delilah couldn’t come. She was my best friend after all. Regardless, Rose enjoyed playing with Juniper. Delilah was the only one who called her

“June.” It was one of those nicknames that people are given when they’re young, then they just kind of stick. In this case, for six years, just because Juniper was always excited when the month of June came around—or maybe it was because the letters “Jun” were in her name. I never knew for sure.

I thanked Delilah and led Rose and Juniper to the meadow. We only just arrived when the three of us stopped abruptly at the sight of over two dozen men in red coats.