GIFTED EYES (book two)

Chapter 02: Tower of Babel

Geneviève

The shop is warm. That is the first thing Geneviève notices. The sound of the fire crackling sends a goosing to her skin. The scent of leather and chemicals lingering in the air. Shoes that most likely cost more than herself displayed on small wooden black tables. The walls a dark emerald green and a rug the same color to match. Welcomed with the sound of classical music playing; a stack of collected vinyls sitting next to the record player. She is hesitant to step inside. As though her presence would disturb the cleanliness of the store.

As she enters, her eyes catch a dark brown grand piano. It's dusty, and she hesitates her fingers above it before pulling away.
"It belonged to the previous owner. Thought it would be too much of a hassle to move out, so, he left it for us."
"Do you play?" She asks.
"Nope. Do you?"
She scoffs. "No. Piano is a Haven's instrument."
Samuel lets out a chuckle.
"This way." The man says, guiding her behind the counter where a black curtain hangs.

They enter another room, and it's cold and small. He lights a candle that hangs on the brick wall. The light now revealing a high ceiling and a black metal staircase.
Fearful she follows.
The stairs twist and turn and each step echos. The sound of the music from below slowly disappearing.

Finally, they reach a black door with a golden knob. Samuel pulls out a key from within his pockets. Before the door could ever swing open, he turns to her. An earnest smile across his face.

"Welcome to my home."

The warmth returns again. The music, a different genre. Similar to the music within the Believers province. And the room, much more colorful than the gothic style below. An orange couch, a brown rug, and a fire. Althea sits stiff, a tea cup in one hand, a book in the other. Geneviève hides behind Samuel, fearful of what the girl will say.

Samuel let's out a heavy breath. "Why are you here? You should be mending the store."

Althea's eyes do not leave the book. "I thought you had it covered," she looks to Geneviève. "Besides, it's midday. Most Haven's nap during this hour."

Samuel shakes his head, slumping his body onto a smaller couch across from her.

"Why is he here?"

"Ha! So it wasn't just me!" Samuel slaps his knee. Althea lifts a brow, turning to Geneviève for an explanation.

Geneviève looks away as she tangles her own fingers together anxiously. "I'm...not a boy."

"Look at that Althea, you've got yourself a new friend."

Althea places her cup on the wooden table and slams her book shut. Her eyes speaking a thousand words and it penetrates Geneviève.

"You're a fool, Samuel." She spits.

"She's hungry. You want me to leave a kid starving?"

"She's a street rat."

Geneviève winces. Her words linger in the air before Samuel speaks again.

"So were you once." Samuel's words strike a chord in Althea, and she is quick to jump from her seat. She turns to Geneviève as though shameful, but Geneviève already knew. The sewage stench of the streets can never be washed away, no matter the fragrance or time that passes.

"And that's exactly why I know not to trust her." She says before stomping her way back down the staircase.

Samuel moves exactly to where Althea once was. He picks up her tea cup, taking a sniff before sipping right after her. Instinctively he gags.

"Black coffee? Seriously?" He mutters to himself.

Geneviève continues to stand in her same spot as she watches him and it takes a moment for him to notice.