To whom it may concern

The bright-coloured tablecloth was all but invisible beneath piles of takeout containers. The Dragon of the Black Pool’s logo glittered red and black against the waxed white boxes and plumes of savoury steam rose from the opened cartons, filling the kitchen with the salty scent of moo shu pork, shrimp fried rice and chicken chow mein.

Marshall reached for the clear plastic bag containing a handful of golden-brown fortune cookies, selecting one at random. He cracked it open with one hand, the other forming a protective circle around the sweet and sour pork balls that his sister was eyeing covetously.

“Run,” said the little slip of paper nestled amidst the crumbs. “Run far, run fast.”

Marshall didn’t hesitate, dropping the shattered cookie remnants onto the grubby kitchen linoleum and sprinting out the back door as though pursued by those few Hounds of Hell that Simon hadn’t managed to socialise yet.

“I told you that would work,” said Syndi, picking up the pork balls and spooning a generous portion onto her plate.

Lisa-Marie Prescott shook her head in amazement, dislodging a tidal wave of glitter from her jet black pompadour.

“You guys haven't changed,” she said. “Suspicious minds, both of you.”

( Read the rest of the Teller Family History here )