" Mommy?" A little boy with a British accent said, he looked to be seven years old. The boy had short messy chestnut colored hair, stunning green eyes and incredibly pale skin.
The woman looked up " Yes Dear?" She replied her dark hair pulled into a tight bun her eyes were beautiful, soft and kind, the prettiest shade of Dark blue she was also pale and not as much as her son. The color of their skin the only way they looked alike. " What's that?" The boy pointed at the book siting on his Mums desk next to her elbow, it was small and it had a black cover, the boy was sure it was old, and belonged to his father, expect the book was kept in good condition, it looked almost new, except he knew better, he often catched his mom reading out of it when she thought he had went to bed.
His mothers faced had this unreadable expression though it disappeared just as quickly as it had come, she would act like everything was normal, that everything was fine. " Nothing Dennis, nothing at all". He knew it was a lie, if it was nothing than why would his mom always have it with her, and she would worry when she forgot where she put it. Dennis knew it was something, something important but for now he decided to drop it.
