Tom hopped in his jeep with the rest of his stuff from the motel. "I have a lot riding on you, you know. I hope this pans out."
Simone rolled her eyes from the passenger seat. There was silence as Tom started to drive.
They drove for two days and were nearly to Faro. All that much closer to her freedom.
Tom finally broke the silence. "So why do you want to go to Faro anyways? It's not like that's where Justin Bieber hangs out."
"Who?" Simone asked. Tom raised a brow.
"You're telling me you've never heard of Justin Bieber." Simone shook her head, a little perplexed why it mattered. "Ok then."
"I'm going because my aunt is there."
"I thought you said you didn't have a family -"
"I never said that."
"hmm," Tom mumbled. "Can I ask what your aunt's name is at least?"
Simone cocked her head to the side, annoyed. "It's Anne." Simone caught Tom nodding. "Wait do you know her?"
Tom laughed, "No, not at all. Faro may not be that big but I haven't been there long enough to know everyone."
"You aren't originally from there?"
"No... I figured you would catch on to that because of my accent."
"You have, an accent?" Simone said surprised.
"Why is that so hard to believe?" Simone listened to Tom's voice very carefully. If anything it just sounded weird.
"No, you don't have an accent."
"I do, English isn't my first language," Tom argued. "I grew up outside of Quebec, which is where they speak french."
"Well that's not a french accent," Simone scoffed.
"How would you know?"
"I speak french. And english isn't my first language either."
"Oh ok, so Savez-vous ce que je dis en ce moment?" Simone just smiled. "What did you not understand me?"
"I definitely did, you just speak french very poorly."
Tom's cheeks got red. "I don't know why I'm even arguing with you kid. What are you some kind of linguist or something? And don't even answer that."
*
The man with the umbrella that was ambushed in his flat in london, awoke with a bag over his head. He breathed heavily, trying to listen for any sounds beyond the beg but unable to pick up anything with his head pounding, trying to recover from the blow that knocked him out.
He dropped his head down to his chest, wincing in pain, when the bag was pulled from his head. He squinted his eyes and looked around slowly. There was a light shining directly at him, his hands were tied behind his back, his bare feet cold on the cement floor. His vision cleared when a man stepped into the light.
"My my, what a sight this is. It's been a while Silas." Silas cocked his head up looking at the bald man that addressed him, still wincing in pain from being knocked out.
"Where am I?" he said, his mouth dry. He coughed suddenly, the air quality poor, the sound echoing off the cement walls. It sounded like they were underground somewhere, although Silas wasn't sure where, until he spotted a skeleton on the ground laying not far from him.
"Ah you see your friend there yes?" The bald man walked over and crouched by the skeleton. He touched the skull gently, smiling in a nostalgic kind of way. "She did not put up much of a fight. I am not sure she really could have offered us information, but you know, once they see the claws, we don't want them surviving to tell the tale."
