If You Need Someone to Talk to

Sister, Sister

Trey had cheerfully given his phone number to Chrys during the car ride back to her apartment. But it wasn't until later that Chrys came to the realisation that his motives were something other than just wanting an acquainted chat. Days later, after still pursuing a hunt for her wallet, she was side-tracked by Trey's text message. It read:

I think Nora is in serious danger.

To which Chrys replied,

Why? What happened?

It turned out that the quick discussion that Trey and Nora had outside of the Italian restaurant was more than a quick discussion. The Grey Skull – the part of the organisation that Nora labelled as 'corrupt' – had recently cut off all of its communications, in and out. All eight members were missing. All their homes empty. Someone, likely of a higher power, was planning something.

And that something possibly involved Nora.

Trey's role, as a part of The Golden Angel was by no means easy. He served as a supporter, working to help other members. He was too young to do anything serious, but he was still valued. Trey was the most suited for his role – someone who was all-rounded and flexible. He was an introverted boy, but confidence would not fail to find him when he needed it.

Trey admitted that it was Dane's idea to bring Chrys along to the diner that night, and that it had put himself in a bad mood for the rest of the day because he wanted to spend that time alone with him. Trey had been planning to explain the situation to Chrys for a while, but his own pride had kept him grasping.

Chrys laughed at his juvenility and said it was okay.

From the day that Nora forced Chrys out of her house, she hadn't reached out for Chrys in any way. In other words, it seemed like she was avoiding her. Not that there was anything wrong about it, but Chrys' mouth frowned with bitterness at the idea that one day Nora suddenly appeared into her life offering some form of help, only to reject and not speak of it entirely days later.

Chrys slouched herself on her couch with a paperback book in her hands. It was a title that she had seen while glazing over Nora's books: Orange. Prior to this moment, books had never interested her. But this one in particular piqued her interest and she hadn't put it down since.

Not until her phone chimed urgently.

As Chrys stood, her back cracked and she realised that her feet were stingingly numb. She picked up the phone.

"Hello? Is this Chrys? I have your wallet," a harsh female voice that insinuated a lisp.

"Yes, thank you, yes it's Chrys." She was all over the place. She'd been clumsily searching for her wallet everywhere. How could she have lost it?

"Meet me at the park?"

"Of course, sure."

The afternoon air kissed a chill onto Chrys' cheeks. She hugged her jumper close to her chest, allowing the walk to consume her. She wasn't sure if she'd find the stranger first or if they'd find her.

Suddenly, her phone earnestly sounded. Nora had texted:

Chrys I need some help right now. Please come over to my apartment.

A little frustrated, Chrys ignored it. She knew that it was wrong to do so, and that any urgency from Nora could suggest a situation that was life-threatening.

Minutes later, Nora sent another text.

Please.

Chrys turned her phone off, acting as petulant as a five year old. Her wallet was the priority here. Somebody was waiting for her.