The Sword (Prince Harry fanfic #3)

Chapter Seven

Lucy arrived on November ninth in Minneapolis in the afternoon, where the chill managed to somehow take her by surprise. It was much colder than London, which was to be expected. She had been smart by bringing a heavier jacket, though when younger, she hadn't needed to bundle up like this. She almost felt old.

Exiting the long, gray terminal and grabbing her bags, her eyes slowly adjusted to the bright sunlight. The brown, small clumps of snow glittered. An airplane boomed overhead, shooting into the air. The bright sky only made the air temperature drop more, and Lucy shivered. London rarely ever got this cold.

Blinking, tears burned her eyes, and then she walked on. Her grandfather had sent a car for her and waited in the wings with a sign. Lucy headed over. Yet her grandfather hadn't returned to cold Minnesota for Lucy's return, she felt at least some love with the car. Her grandfather yet waited in California heat. She wouldn't take a taxi out of the Twin Cities and south to a city on the edge of the metro. The man tried to help Lucy with her bags, but she kept them close to her.

The drive down to her old city was the longest thirty minutes of her life. Her grandfather kept a house in the town with a non-traditional name for Lucy, in case she ever came back to Minnesota. This non-traditional name of a town was on the land of an old Native American tribe and thought to give tribute to the old chief. The house was in the town she grew up in, and where her family died.

The city was a nice enough place of forty-thousand people. It was small compared to some of the cities around. There was a movie theater, a bunch of restaurants, an amusement park and a horse track. With many tourist attractions closed for the winter, the townies roamed. Five miles out of town was a casino. Fifteen another way was a shopping mall. The other way, fifteen miles away was another shopping mall. It was in the perfect place to live to go somewhere else.

Lucy's car stopped in front of a house, rather large for whenever her grandfather was here since he lived alone. He preferred it. Now the large house was meant to be her home as long as she stayed. If Harry had his way, it would be until the new year. Lucy still had an uneasy feeling about what Harry hid from her but she didn't believe it to be bad. They had talked a lot after she met his family, and everything seemed back to perfect now.

The car drove off and Lucy allowed herself into the house. It was too clean, too massive and too white inside the house. Even with her grandfather not being here, it was cleaned every week, and it smelt too clean, like she was back in a hospital. The lights were too bright as she flickered them on and the windows were massive. She closed the shades halfway.

Dropping her bags in the front entryway, she texted Harry to tell her she was home. Lucy had texted earlier about her landing down in Minnesota, but this was different. She was back in the U.S., and she was back in her city. Even with the late time in London, Harry texted her back immediately, welcoming her home. He said it to be nice but they both knew. This was just a city to Lucy, and this was house was just a house.

It was too cold in the house and she headed upstairs to change the heat. Lucy didn't make it up three stairs before the doorbell rang. Cursing herself, she assumed someone would've been watching the house. It wasn't Harry's people and it wasn't the media, thankfully for the latter. But she had the idea of who it might be.

Upon opening the door, Sydney stood there, somehow smiling after all this time. Though young, the day of five years before didn't mark her like Lucy. Sydney hadn't been physically injured during the mass shooting, but she still had her friends that died on her. Sydney and Lucy had been friends when younger, grown apart and gotten back together only to grow apart again. They used to live down the street from each other, until Lucy didn't live in that home anymore. From what Lucy remembered, Sydney had a severe amount of PTSD, much worse than Lucy had. Still, Sydney stood smiling in front of Lucy, at her door.

"I was waiting for you," Sydney said.

Lucy knew that was weird but all the emails had been from Sydney. She put the five year anniversary together.

Sydney thrusted a packet at Lucy in not a hateful way but rather jumpy way. "This is all the information. What time things are going on and a list of people who are going to be there. I didn't know you were coming, so you're not on there." Lucy's eyes flicked upward. "I just suspected that you would come."

"You did?"

"You don't exactly run from a fight, Lucille." They went so far back that Sydney called Lucy Lucille, even she despised that name. Sydney continued, "I can go over it with you, if you want, if I can come in."

Lucy stepped out of the way, and Sydney came in. Her eyes went out, glancing around for anyone else. After living in London for a while and dating Harry, she was always on the lookout for media. None was here. The door was closed and locked behind Sydney, who had taken off her shoes and gone over to kitchen.

Sydney visited Lucy a lot after the mass shooting, going back to her childhood friend. Sydney came most days when Lucy was in the hospital. Sydney came most days when Lucy had moved into this house with her grandfather. It wasn't until the day Lucy left on her eighteenth birthday that they didn't see each other. They hadn't seen each other since. Lucy wasn't going to apologize for it.

Lucy joined Sydney in the kitchen. "I can read the packet and if I have any questions, I can just email you. I just have one question now." Sydney's eyes up. "Syd, what about the media presence?"

Her teeth gritted. "Well, it was easy to keep the media out during the first and second year, but they poked around the third year. Four was worse. And five years will be the worst, because they still haven't forgotten. In another five years, something worse would've happened on this day and it'll be forgotten. For now, you can expect a circus."

Lucy nodded. "No one knows I'm coming?"

"I can send out an email," she offered.

"No, let it be a surprise. If it's going to be a circus out there, let us use it to our advantage."

Sydney's eyes came up and her smile came back. "You were always smart."

"I expect some politicians there."

She nodded. "For and against gun control. They use this as hunting ground for topics. They--"

"They'll either say this was a tragic incident or this was mass murder." Lucy flipped through the packet and politician names' were written on the page. There was a lot, from inside the state and then nationally. A few names Lucy recognized because these people already talked about the 2020 U.S. Presidential Election.

"Is there anything else?" Sydney asked.

"Will you come by tomorrow?"

"Do you want me to?"

"Yes."

Sydney nodded. "I'll see you tomorrow." She left.

Lucy paged through the packet, at least five pages, and half of them were names. These were people were survived and their families, families and friends of people who died, people who wanted to give respect to the victim, groupies of the day, politicians who wanted something out of it and the media was listed last. It didn't say who exactly from the media was coming, only an estimated number. Sydney had stayed true because Lucy looked three times, her name wasn't on the list.