Arabella's Return

The cold summer night air caressed my cheeks as though greeting me a grand welcome as I descended the stairs of the plane with my hand securely clutching at the handle of my small suitcase. Bright, glittering lights sparkled right in front of my eyes, reminding me of the night I left the country. It was summer that time too and though five years had passed, I still recalled the events as though it happened just yesterday.

Forcing my thoughts back to the present, I held the knitted cardigan securely into place before my high-heeled stiletto moved across the lobby, right in the middle of skittering passengers.

"Miss Arabella Angelstone?" A man called my name, pulling me into an abrupt stop. Adjusting the rim of my fashionable eyeglass, I looked at him inquiringly. Racing my voice just enough for him to hear, I warily replied, "Yes?"