The long grass on the hill waved like the ocean. A ship sailed by on the blue waves of the sea. The small town of Sakten was preparing for the month of June, the warmest month of the year for them, and almost all of the residence were inside, preparing for the party at Mrs. Liza Pond’s house on the hill.
Mrs. Pond was the second daughter of Mrs. Amelia Pond and her husband Rory respectively, because the husband had left some months before Liza was born. Her family had lived in Upper Sakten as long as they could remember, an old family, like almost all in Sakten, and they were the second richest family in the town.
Sakten itself was a modest village, its houses and stores painted bright colors and was small enough for everyone to know everyone that lived there, a rarity in this day and age. At night the street lamps lit the streets and the warm glow of the local cafe and people’s houses made an almost peaceful picture, except for the ever crashing waves in the distance. It was at this twilight hour that people started to make their way through the neighborhoods towards the Ponds house on Packend Hill.
A man was strolling the sidewalk, a little way from the crowds of families and friends dressed in their finest. He was Max Lehnsherr, native to Germany. He had a uncommonly young face, despite his grey hair, and a few people in Sakten who believed in such things, spoke of witchcraft, or immortality, for he was something of a mystery. The Lehnsherr’s were the richest family in Sakten and they lived in a secluded mansion on the ocean away from the town. Max had two daughters, Wanda and Lorna, and one son, Pietro and they never came down to Sakten without their father. Tonight, however, they were accompanying their father to Mrs. Pond’s party, where Lorna the youngest, hoped to find romance for she was a pretty thing and had read books in which, on such a night as this, a heroine had found her lover.
Excitement was in the air as the people in dresses and suits, jeans and T-shirts streamed into the Ponds house, decorated with lights and filled with warm sea air, for all the windows were open, and held tables laden with food, wine, and punch for the children.
Lorna looked around as she stepped into the music, air, and food. She had barely ever been outside the mansion with even her siblings and father and now as she stood beside them in front of all the people dancing and eating, she felt strange. A slight wind brushed her velvet dress. At least no one was staring at her.
Pietro, looking very handsome in his slacks and pilot jacket, led his sisters toward the dance floor.
“Go dance, father and I have business.” He slipped back through the crowd.
Max Lehnsherr saw his son’s grey hair from a million. It had always been grey, since he was born, a mutation they had said, that had bypassed his daughter and chosen Pierdo instead. His son had inherited much from him, his hair, his green eyes, his talent for piano. And his quick fingers.
Mr. Lehnsherr sipped his wine and did not look up as Pietro approached. He felt the leather of a wallet press into his palm behind his back.
“Thank you Pietro.” He still didn’t look up as he slipped the wallet into his back pocket, knowing that there were fifteen crisp hundred dollar bills inside.
“Mr. Arrighetti, father. As you asked.”
“Did he see?” Pietro laughed,
“No, and it’ll be a long time before he does too, he’s drunk.” He looked around at his father’s wine glass hungerly.
“May I have some?” Mr. Lehnsherr smiled and looked up at his son for the first time. He was smiling, and his green eyes flashed like a shark’s.
“Nur ein wenig.”

“Danke father.” Pietro took a drink, and then slipped off through the crowd once more.

Wanda eyed the people around her, drinking, dancing, talking, fighting and singing. Such chaos. She looked deeply at the opposite wall and thought of a butterfly she had seen outside the window this morning. The iridescent blue wings in the warm air, fluttering, like a human heart. She looked away and walked outside to join her sister, who had went outside for the “fresh air”.

Lorna was standing in the courtyard, standing very close to a brown haired tall man sporting a trench coat and sunglasses. He was speaking in a thick Cajun accent and she was laughing softly at something he had said. The man was just leaning in when Wanda heard the four note whistle of Mozart’s 9. Their signal. It was her Father.

Lorna heard the piercing whistle with dread. Remy LeBeau looked up with what seemed amusement, though it was hard to tell with his sunglasses.

“Zat you’re father?”

“Yes. I sorry Remy I-” Remy he waved as he walked into the mist without a word.
Wanda jogged over, looking stern. “Lorna! What were you doing?”
Lorna’s defiance could not hide her guilty expression, “I was talking.”
“Who was that man?-” Max Lehnsherr walked up with Piedro on his arm.
“Come along.” And the four Lehnsherr’s strolled away from the Pond’s house on Packend hill.