Chapter Two --  Amber’s Disappearance

“Good morning, Abigail!” Her sister Amber said with a mouth full of cinnamon Eggo waffles.

“Um...Good morning..,” Abigail said back to her with disgust at the sight of chewed-up waffle hanging out of the corner of her mouth. Then Amber wiped her mouth with her pink sleeve, so Abigail turned away. “Abigail,” her mother said, “I have an important case I need to go to, so can you take care of Amber?” Abigail hesitated, but soon realized that if she didn’t say yes, Mrs. Snort would have to take care of them, and Mrs. Snort never lets them go outside. “Sure,” Abigail said, nodding at her mother, “I’ll be fine. You can leave now if you want.” Her mother thanked her and rushed out the door into her Tesla Roadster 2.5 and sped away to the law firm where she worked. But Abigail didn’t want to take care of her sister. It was a Saturday, her free day. So she decided to drop Amber off at Mrs. Snort’s house. Amber thought the way Mrs. Snort snorted when she laughed was hilarious, so that wouldn’t be a problem. Suddenly, her stomach gurgled. She realized that she still hadn’t eaten breakfast yet! So she swooped around the kitchen, grabbing the cereal box off of a shelf and pulling the milk out of the fridge. The milk sloshed around in its jug when she walked quickly over to the kitchen counter. She opened the box, shook some cereal out of the box, and poured some milk into her cereal bowl. Then she carried it carefully across the cherry-wood kitchen floor. She made it to the table and slumped down in one of the purple velveteen chairs. “Amber,” she said to her little sister, “would you like to go to Mrs. Snort’s house for a few hours?” Her sister looked at her in confusion, then changed her expression to excited. “You mean Mrs. Storn?” She said, bouncing happily in her seat. “Well, yeah. I guess Mrs. Storn is what I meant to say,” Abigail said. “It’s okay,” her sister said with a wink, “I call her that all the time. But, anyway, sure! I’d love to!” She jumped out of her seat to take her dishes to the sink and called to Abigail, “When are we going?” She ran to the stairs and said to shout when Abigail was ready. Abigail sighed and continued to eat her cereal. In three minutes she was finished. Abigail snapped her fingers and the bowl flew to the counter. Yes, she was a witch. Abigail had been keeping the secret since she was six, when she had first discovered her magical talent. Abigail could levitate things, change the color of her eyes, and make things disappear and appear. She clomped up the stairs and changed into denim shorts and a light green short-sleeved shirt. When she had finished brushing her teeth, she pulled her light brown hair into a tight ponytail and shouted into her bedroom, “Amber! I’m ready!” But there was no answer. “Amber?” She called again. “Amber, if this is a joke, please answer me. Amber!” Suddenly, Abigail had the feeling she was alone. She raced into her bedroom and came to a stop when she saw the window open and the curtains swaying in the light spring breeze. “Amber!!” She yelled out the open window, hearing her echo down the mountainside. “Amber,” she whispered to herself, “She’s gone.”