Josefine

The Argument

"You're famous." Trixie warned as she slapped a grubby tabloid on the table. She must have stolen it on her rounds.

Seffy almost swore as the headline screamed at her: DEADLY ROBBERY – BOOKS TAKEN AND WOMAN MURDERED.

Being famous was bad. Very bad. Seffy knew how brutal and slick the authorities were when it came to missing stock – especially missing expensive stock. Lives they didn't care so much for. The thought made Seffy scowl momentarily.

"We need to move on." Seffy muttered, standing up suddenly and walking towards the back of the cave. "Start packing."

"Seff, no!"

"What do you mean, no? They'll find us, Trixie! Do you want them to catch us?"

"No, of course not! And they won't, Seffy."

"They will, Trix. You don't understand."

"No, they won't. Listen." Trixie leaned forward.

Trixie's plan was nothing like Seffy's. Seffy's plan involved staying under the radar, moving for months on end, moving far away. Trixie's, well, didn't. When Trixie had finished explaining her plan, they started to argue. When they eventually gave in and Trixie stormed off to polish her knives, the dim world had darkened even more and Seffy started to cry.

She hated crying. It made her feel far too vulnerable and humiliated. The last time she'd cried after an argument, she'd been seven years old. Sixteen-year-olds didn't cry after an argument. Especially when they could murder a poor mother and feel nothing. But she couldn't help it– she found herself curling up in a corner of the cave, tears leaking from her hazel eyes as she squeezed them shut.