Her heart pounded in time with the ticking of the old grandfather clock her aunt had left her. She snatched blankets from behind the sofa, knocking over the pretty, but essentially worthless knick-knacks that she’d so loved. They shattered on the hard wood floor, but Elaine didn’t notice, having already moved on to the dusty lace curtains.

“Come on, come on!” She cursed under her breath as yet another dead end was reached, her fingertips smearing the lace with blood. She couldn’t feel the pain. Only panic.

​

    Elaine scanned the room, desperately searching for some inch-no, a centimeter- that she hadn’t checked. But her aunt’s once spotless living room had fallen into anarchy, looking as though the men in white had already ransacked it. ‘She said it would be here,’ Elaine thought, her breaths coming in hyperventilating pants. ‘She said it would be here.’

​

    She flipped the sofa, coughing as it smashed through the nearest wall and left plaster particles in the air. The clock continued ticking and toking, but her heart had long since surpassed its tempo.

A car pulled up in front of the apartment-a sleek, black Sedan. Out stepped the men in white, steps synched perfectly as they approached the door. She had run out of time.

The voice in her head screamed at her to run, to let the men have whatever they wanted and run for it. They wouldn’t care about her beyond that. But no. Her aunt trusted her with whatever it was they were after, and Elaine would find it.

​

    Then she saw it. It was little more than a blob of yellow out of the corner of her eye catching the sunlight from the torn open curtains. She sprinted over to it, clutching it to her chest with reverence she never would have expected.

​

    In her hands lay the stupid little porcelain chick that her aunt had picked out. Elaine had always thought it the most ridiculous thing, with eyes too big for its head and a human-esque smile. She’d thought it an ugly waste of porcelain, so much so that, when her aunt left it to her in her will, she didn’t bother taking it from the house. Had the men in white not followed her from the funeral, it would have been sold the next day.

​

    Footsteps sounded up the old, creaky stairs and Elaine threw the window open and leapt onto the fire escape. The door opened as soon as she clamored down the stairs two at a time, booking it several blocks over.

When she felt she was sufficiently safe, at least for the moment, she collapsed to her knees, chest heaving. She studied the figurine, heart in her throat and praying that her guess was correct. Her hopes were beginning to plummet when she noticed a small crack where the head met the neck. Heart in her throat, she twisted the head and pulled, snapping it from the neck in a clean break. She peered inside and then replaced the head, eyes widening. A memory card.