Help from a stranger
Author's note: Hello, this book is a work of fiction inspired of some films and true cases. Unfortunately, I am only 15 years old. My English is quite bad, please don't judge and give me some advice if needed. Thank you ❤)
PROLOGUE
Dieter was waiting for the sun to rise. He carefully watched the dark sky from the window with a cup of coffee warming his cold hands. It's winter already. Cold nights, cold air, a cold bed. He wanted summer to last longer. He wanted the heat of the sun to brighten his days. But now he is left with short days, snowy weather and not-warm-enough coats. Normally, there was a sweet soul that used to make him forget about his hatred towards winter: his daughter, Angela.
Angela used to run to her father in the middle of the night, asking him to search for the monster sleeping under her bed. She used to wake her mother up in the early morning so that they can make pancakes together. Angela was the sun Dieter had been waiting for. The sun that unfortunately still isn't rising.
Now, he and his wife are alone, suffering in silence from their loss, heartbroken. It's the second time they lose a child but this time is more painful. His wife Helga suffered a miscarriage first sinking into a severe severe depression but it all faded when she had her rainbow baby, Angela. And now, the darkness is back.
Helga goes to church every Tuesday and Sunday. She has a good relationship with sister Agnes and sister Beatrice. She helps them at Christmas and in the orphanage sister Agnes founded. Though Helga is loved in church, she is the most hated in her neighbourhood. The day she married Dieter (a former prisoner) they looked at her differently. Her neighbours were shocked by her choice. They all thought she had a relationship with Klaus Richter before. Klaus Richter, the richest man in town. But, they didn't think they were a good match. Helga is a good woman in a hypocrite neighbourhood. They thought that if she marries Klaus his wealth would trickle down the community and now their plan faded away. Helga is ostracised from her neighbourhood.
Sister Agnes used to tell her, "They are vindictive people, you are a good soul, let fools be guided by the good but don't interfere." Helga still doesn't understand what the sister meant. She's lost. From the moment she didn't find her daughter.
From the moment her daughter was no longer a part of her life.
She cried so much, Helga cried so much that her eyes got tired. She felt as if a part of her soul go taken.
Angela, loved the colour green, and so Helga covered all the house with green objects she even started to hurt herself so that a part of her daughter stays in her. Her husband doesn't know about this. Whenever she changes her clothes, Helga would lock herself in the bathroom. She doesn't want Dieter to ask her questions about her scars. She's lost.
CHAPTER 1: Help from a stranger
Dieter:
"Now please! I need you to listen to me, Dieter!"
Dieter closes the door with a loud thud, ignoring the journalist outside, but he keeps staring at him from the peep-hole on the wooden door.
The notebook and the glasses of the journalist fall and the poor man gets on his knees to search for his supplies. Dieter opens then the door with a smirk on his lips.
"I never believed you would be so desperate to see me to the point you'd be on your knees. You can get in now."
The journalist smiles, picks his glasses and notebook after finding them then enters the house with a big, wide smile.
Dieter prepares coffee, but only for himself. He sits in the chair far away from the journalist, his legs crossed. He loudly sips his dark drink while his eyes stare the pour man like a prey.
"My name is Julien Bordeaux," the journalist speaks, embarrassed. "I am here to ask you some questions and we actually talked before."
Dieter acts as if he tries to remember Julien but his secretly laughing at his accent. Julien Bordeaux. He has heard this name before but doesn't remember when or where.
"You aren't German, are you?"
The journalist shakes his head. "No, I am from France."
Dieter holds his laughter in his throat. He takes another sip of his coffee glaring at the stairs this time. Helga cleaned the house, he thinks.
The journalist clears his throat before speaking. "I am the journalist that asked you about your daughter before."
At the moment, Dieter remembers Julien from 2 years ago. He gets up, the chair falling and hits the table harshly with his hands. Julien gasps with fear.
"So you're the boy that came after my daughter got kidnapped," Dieter smiles, the blood boiling in his veins, my wife helped build a career for you, then you wanted to take benefits from that by using our daughter story for money!"
Terrible, he thought. Till this day he still wonders why his wife is so soft to people.
The journalist gets up, his hands up. "No. This time, I'm here to help you."
Dieter hits the table with his leg, still staring at Julien.
"I am serious! Listen to me! I have a plan and not for money!"
Dieter lights a cigarette, knowing Julien hates the smell of it. His new hobby is annoying people.
Julien covers his nose with his shirt and opens is notebook.
"Last time I came, I needed money but now as a father myself I can't imagine losing your child."
Dieter nods his head.
"As you said before, a man is not a father and now I understand-"
"Get straight to the point," Dieter cuts him with a cold voice.
Julien let out a long sight. He stares at Dieter seriously this time, not scared, not disgusted. "I found a way to find your daughter," he says. "I'll need to ask you questions so that I can write a journal."
Dieter frowns. "How will that help?"
The journalist adjusts his glasses. "After printing the journal there would be a question and a small place where to answer so that the reader can write what he thinks is the suspect. Then we'll search about the names written."
An intelligent idea, Dieter thinks. He can't lie about it, this French man is truly incredible. But he can't trust him.
"I heard you have something called 'les macrons' in France," Dieter said to test Julien. "Some sweet candies."
Julien gives a questioning look. "They are called 'les macarons' actually."
Dieter nods and points at the journalist. "Angela loves them."
Julien smiles sincerely, Dieter can see that. "Really?! My daughter loves them too! She is still so young but whenever I make them for her she comes running into the kitchen! She's still young but she devores them though!"
Julien smiles wildly thinking of his daughter. He has a great relationship with her, Dieter thinks. He's a good guy then, soft but smart.
He wished Angela was still here, she would have loved playing with Julien's daughter. Dieter thought of Helga holding Angela. A sweet family of three. But the memory vanished, leaving only the cold kitchen and the smoke of his cigarette.
"So...do you accept my offer?"
Dieter nods. "But I'll need to speak to my wife first. Come meet me Friday at 8."
Julien smiles wildly and puts his hand on Dieter's shoulder. "I'll bring les macarons."
Then the journalist walks outside of the house happily.
Dieter is ready to do anything as long as it helps him re-ooen his daughter's case. The police took him as the first suspect since he's a former prisoner but without proof, they couldn't lock him. After not finding anything that could lead to Angela's kidnapper, they stopped searching and moved on. And when Dueter tried to do things himself a police officer was about to take him to prison again.
Helga works late on Mondays and he hates it, so instead of waiting for her, he picks her up infront of everyone.
