Three Little Visitors: Pt 2
Sunset’s response was immediate, and performed with military precision. After only an hour or two of dithering and walking the streets in a vain hope of finding the three girls, Sunset pulled out her phone, and placed several calls.
“So what’s up?” Rainbow asked, seating herself on the bench and trying to look attentive.
“And why are we in the park?” Applejack asked, raising an eyebrow at a passing jogger.
Sunset paused, not meeting any of her friend’s gazes. She had to communicate this correctly, or they might not believe her.
Although to be honest she thought wryly, I’m not sure that I believe me.
“I had a run in with... well, with three little girls,” she began.
“A run in?” Fluttershy asked, evidently concerned at the term.
“What do you mean, you had a run in?” Rainbow narrowed her eyes, unusually shrewd.
“I mean they broke into my apartment and stole my cakes,” Sunset explained.
Her friends all stared at her in astonishment. Rainbow blinked and opened her mouth, pausing a split second before actually speaking.
“You said three little girls did this, right?” she inquired slowly.
“Yes,” Sunset confirmed. “And the weird part is that I think—“
“So, what?” Rainbow continued, a smirk beginning at the corner of her mouth. “They shimmied up a pipe and through your window?”
“No,” Sunset said, frowning. “They knocked on the door.”
“They broke into your apartment by knocking on the door?” Pinkie Pie said out loud to herself. “And it worked? I gotta try that sometime.”
“Hold on, ya’ll,” Applejack boomed quellingly. “Let Sunset explain.” She turned to Sunset, a determined look on her face. “Have you called the police?”
“Well, no,” Sunset admitted. “I kinda wanted to discuss something with you guys first.”
“Discuss something about the robbery?” Rarity asked. “If it’s about the cakes, I think you paid about seventeen dollars, darling.”
“It’s not about the cakes,” Sunset said, starting to get irritated with all the interruptions. “It’s about the girls.”
“Oh!” Rainbow cried, sitting up excitedly. “I bet it’s those thieves I saw!” She ogled Sunset with shining eyes. “I was right, wasn’t I? It totally is—“
“I think they might be the sirens!” Sunset bellowed over Rainbow’s yammering.
The group all fell silent. Rainbow, Rarity, and Pinkie Pie’s mouths fell open. Applejack blinked, her eyebrows disappearing under her fringe. Fluttershy put a hand absently to her mouth.
“The sirens?” Applejack asked, as though to confirm that she’d heard correctly. Sunset nodded awkwardly. “Huh. Well, I...” she didn’t seem to be able to think of anything else to say.
“The sirens broke into your apartment and stole your cakes,” Fluttershy said wonderingly, looking utterly perplexed.
“Oh, I am so beating them senseless!” Rainbow raged, recovering from her astonishment. She slammed a fist into her other hand as Sunset raised her own hands for quiet.
“Wait, wait!” she said over the hubbub. “It wasn’t the sirens. I mean, not the sirens we knew.”
“But you just said they broke into your apartment,” Pinkie pointed out.
“No, these girls... well, they were younger. Much younger. Like six maybe. Seven at most.”
“So it wasn’t them?” Rainbow asked, her shoulders slumping.
“That’s the thing,” Sunset sighed exasperatedly. “They looked like them. They had their hair and eyes, and... but I don’t see how they could be them.”
Applejack took her by the arm. Turfing Rainbow away from the bench, she sat Sunset down and spoke patiently. “Tell us what you’re thinking, sugarcube.”
“You said that these girls looked like the sirens,” Rarity began, sitting down on Sunset’s other side. “What exactly did they look like?”
Sunset described the girls as best she could. She described the hair and eye colours more precisely, and told them about the weird clothes they were wearing.
“Sandals and Greek dresses?” Rainbow asked, frowning at the barren trees and grey sky. “That’ll be a jolly Christmas.”
Sunset bit her lip at this. Whoever the girls were, Rainbow had a point. By the looks of the three girls, they were homeless or runaways. Those thin and fraying white dresses wouldn’t keep them warm in the approaching winter. Perhaps it would be best to inform the authorities...
“Come to think of it,” Rarity said, as though a thought had just come to her. “Has anyone actually seen the sirens? Since the battle of the bands, I mean.”
They all shook their heads.
“I just assumed that they skipped town,” Rainbow huffed.
“I think I saw them once a few days afterwards,” Fluttershy said tentatively. “They looked a little off.”
“Off in what way?” Sunset asked.
“Distracted, I guess you’d say,” Fluttershy answered through her fingers. “It was like they didn’t notice things around them. And they also kind of looked ill. All pale and...” she broke off as everyone stared at her.
“You don’t think they died or something?” Rainbow asked seriously. Applejack punched her arm. “What?” she asked indignantly. “It’s not like I wanted them to die!”
“I think we’d have heard if three teenage girls were found dead,” Rarity said squeamishly. “But it is strange. If Rainbow is to be believed about these thieves being children, the reports on the robberies did start about a week after the battle of the bands.”
“So, what?” Rainbow asked, grinning. “The sirens just up and turned into little girls in white dresses and began a life of larceny? Did those necklaces age them up or something?”
“Come to think of it,” Sunset muttered, frowning. “By all accounts, the sirens are supposed to be immensely old. They were banished here during the Unification Period by Starswirl the Bearded. If anything, their pendants made them eternally youthful, not older.”
“Well if you think about it,” Pinkie put in, “we don’t actually know anything about what those necklaces did except suck in negative energy.”
Sunset raised her eyebrows at this somewhat out-of-character insight. “That’s true. The origins of the sirens is a complete mystery, and the nature of their magic was never studied. They were a dangerous threat, and so were stopped before they could cause any more havoc. But that meant that Starswirl never discovered how the sirens really worked.”
“Well this is all very interesting,” Applejack said after a brief silence. “But what are we gonna do about these girls? All this stuff about the sirens is just speculation until we meet them.”
“That’s true,” Sunset agreed. She frowned, remembering her walk home. The sounds and phenomena happening behind her suddenly made more sense. “They came after my cakes. I think they must be homeless to break into my apartment just for food. Although the orange one did try to steal my laptop too.”
“Do you think they live near your apartment?” Fluttershy wondered.
“Maybe,” Sunset said doubtfully. “I don’t know where they could live though. There’s no orphanages, abandoned buildings, or other places near me that I know of where they might stay.”
“Ooh,” Applejack said with dawning comprehension. “That’s why you wanted to meet in the park. You reckon they’re here somewhere.”
“Well, what do we do?” Rainbow asked, looking around.
None of them spoke. It seemed none of them had any ideas.
Over the following two weeks, Sunset thought about the three little thieves often, but saw them not at all as she continued to work on her homework speech. She reworked it several times in between the rest of her homework, and sent several e-mails to Rarity for additional revisions.
Rainbow’s words about the dropping temperature frequently occurred to her as the weeks went by, and the first frosts began to glisten on the moist grasses of the city. However, it wasn’t until an unlikely trip to the shops over by the industrial sector that Sunset saw the three thieves again
The industrial area of the city was, as anyone can imagine, a grey area full of tall chimneys, box-like buildings covered in warped and blackened metal. One or two office-like towers stood out with shiny signs and large corporate logos, but in the main the coming winter bleached even these of what little colour they had to offer. The shops nearby were a long, L-shaped series of the more expensive sorts of shops: electronics, bookshops, a posh cafe, and specialty stores like the art shop and the novelty outlet.
Having gotten there a little earlier than she’d meant to, Sunset treated herself to a coffee and stuffed pretzel before setting off to the novelty store, intending to get Pinkie something for her birthday. Stuffing the last half of the pretzel into her bag, she huddled against the wind outside of the cafe, heading for the shop next door.
Really, she thought with a sigh, it’s the only place in town to get something for Pinkie Pie.
Reaching out for the handle, the door suddenly burst open, knocking Sunset’s coffee right out of her hand. Upon recovering from the shock of being hit by a door, she looked down to find a small person lying on the ground.
“Y-You!” she cried.
The girl looked up from under her dishevelled blue hair and gasped in horror. A second girl, carrying what looked like a bed cover inside a plastic case, said something Sunset didn’t understand. By the tone, Sunset thought it was a curse, but it was no word Sunset had ever heard before. The second girl kicked out at Sunset, who dodged backwards, and then with her free hand, pulled the first girl roughly to her feet. Both began running just as the third girl came tearing out of the shop, an irate shop worker hot on her heels.
The shop worker swore loudly, and then noticed Sunset. “Oh, sorry miss,” he said, abashed.
“No problem,” Sunset said. She hesitated, watching the three of them dodge in between early morning shoppers, and then on an impulse, ran after them.
“Ma’am?” the worker called. “You don’t have to. I’ll just call the police!”
Sunset followed the three into the wooded area that blocked the gaze of shoppers from the full ferocity of the industrial sector. The three didn’t look back after themselves, but simply ran on what was clearly a known path. Sunset at first marvelled at her own tracking abilities, but then supposed that the three of them had simply become accustomed to not being followed this far beyond the scope of the public eye. Watching from behind a thick tree, Sunset saw them scale a wire fence, throwing the stolen bed covering over before the purple-haired one climbed over herself. Sunset followed shortly after, almost losing them next to a long row of abandoned looking warehouses.
She scowled as she looked around for the girls, wondering if she had indeed lost them, when the sound of falling debris drew her attention. There, climbing through a glassless window, was little Blue-hair.
“Warehouse twenty three,” Sunset muttered, looking up at the big sign next to the main door. It looked rusted shut, which would explain why the girls climbed through a window. She contemplated the window doubtfully. “I’ll never fit through that,” she whispered aloud. Nonetheless, she raised her head to the window, which was at her eye level, and peered inside. A large, metal crate stood two feet away, blocking sight to the interior.
What’s that? Sunset thought, frowning. She turned her head to angle her ear into the building, and listened. Several high voices were talking together, all in a strange language that Sunset did not understand. It contained a great deal more S’s than English did, and the speakers had a strange inflection to their voices.
Sunset looked left and right for a way in, but the length was solid wall, interspersed with windows, none of which could Sunset get through. Trying the front, she found that next to the large, striated-metal door was smaller door with peeling blue paint. The handle was a little gritty, but it turned alright. The hinges on the other hand had rusted straight through, causing the entire door to collapse inwards with a loud crash. Sunset’s view of the interior was lit by pale morning sunlight, which cast a strange sight over the interior through large windows set in the roof.
What looked like a small campsite had been set up against several metal containers. Two piles of dirty rags made up what was clearly meant to be makeshift beds, whilst a questionably tethered hammock was suspended over them between a length of pipe and a bar on the side of one of the containers. At the centre of these was an old, rusty barrel lightly smoking and smouldering, whilst around this was a mess of oddly assorted items, stored magpie-like around the little den in piles. Sunset couldn’t help but think this to be an enormous fire hazard; the barrel was rusted and burned black, and the items around it were all extremely flammable.
At the sound of the door collapsing, three familiar faces looked up in alarm. The two on the floor, who’d been fighting over some toy or other, dropped it immediately and ran behind the metal crate hiding the open window. The third, who’d been up on the hammock, scrabbled to get out, became entangled, and promptly crashed to the floor with a dull thud. Before she could recover, Sunset was standing over her, pulling her gently up. The girl went pale as chalk at Sunset’s touch and tried to pull away, but Sunset instinctively seized a hold of her upper arm to stop her running.
“Aria!” the girl cried fearfully. “A-Aria!”
“Aria?” Sunset repeated. “Did you say—“
“Aria!” the girl screamed. “Adagio!”
Keeping a tight hold on her, Sunset could only stare at the girl, struggling and crying. Although the way she was saying the names made it a little difficult to be sure...
“Sonata?” Sunset said slowly.
The girl looked even more scared at this. She said something in that strange language again. It sounded like a question, but Sunset had no idea what it could be. When Sunset didn’t say anything, the girl resumed struggling, calling out for Aria and Adagio.
Sunset looked her over more minutely. The dark blue streaks in her hair, the dusky blue skin, and the magenta-coloured eyes; it looked just like her. But how could it be?
When it became clear to Sonata that the other two weren’t coming back, she began to cry in earnest. Her arm still held firm, she looked frantically around as though looking for an exit.
“Oh no you don’t!” Sunset said hastily, pulling Sonata’s arm up as the little girl made to bite at Sunset’s hand. Sonata cried out louder, her pitch becoming higher, shaking and twisting as hard as she could. But Sunset wasn’t letting go. She wasn’t sure what she was going to do, but she couldn’t leave Sonata in this squalor. She grimaced as she looked at the little den she and the other two had made, at the discarded wrappers and food containers they had evidently either salvaged or stolen. Sonata herself was thin; the arm Sunset was holding was scrawny and a little wasted. Her struggling didn’t have much more than tenacity behind it.
“Sonata, settle down,” Sunset said firmly.
Sonata either didn’t understand, or ignored her. It was kind of sad to watch her repeatedly hitting Sunset’s forearm with her sharp little fist. If she couldn’t understand, then what could Sunset do...?
On an intuition, Sunset took firm hold of Sonata’s shoulders, and fixed her with a penetrating stare. “Stop.”
Sunset wasn’t sure what it was that got Sonata to stop struggling, whether the tone, the word itself, or the stare. Sonata, trembling all the while, she blinked the residual tears from her eyes and stared back at Sunset, apparently transfixed. Then her stomach gave an enormous rumble.
“Are you hungry?” Sunset asked, smirking.
Sonata sniffled a few times, and then mumbled something thickly in that strange language. She made no attempt to run or continue struggling as Sunset rummaged with one hand in her bag, and pulled out the half-eaten remains of her stuffed pretzel. The pastry filled the stale air of the abandoned warehouse with a warm smell, and Sunset had to stop herself chuckling at how it caught Sonata’s attention. She suddenly went still and quiet, like a dog that’s sensed a cat. Still, Sunset didn’t like to see the ravenous hunger in her young eyes.
Letting go of Sonata’s upper arm, she held out the bag. Sonata’s eyes flickered between Sunset’s face and the bag a few times. She raised her hand slowly, as though she thought Sunset was going to snatch the bag away at the last moment, and then seized the food with lightning speed. Before Sunset could even open her mouth, Sonata dived over one of the rag piles and sat munching the pretzel, her wide eyes fixed suspiciously on Sunset.
Sunset picked up the empty bag, and regarded Sonata with regret. To her eyes, the girl had the look of a wild and starving animal, cold and frightened. It genuinely pained her to think of the sirens as they once had been, and to see one of them now.
“Hey,” she said in a coaxing tone.
Sonata gulped down the last of the pretzel in the voracious manner of a starving wolf, and regarded Sunset warily. Sunset saw her eyes dart a few times to the big metal crate behind where the window was.
Cringing at how creeper-like this sounded, she said “Do you want to come to my house? I’ve got more food if you want.”
Sonata tilted her head to one side, but otherwise said nothing.
“Do you understand what I’m saying?” Sunset asked, doubtfully. Sonata’s blank stare gave her all the answer she required. “Food,” Sunset said clearly, picking up the bag and pointing at it meaningfully.
Sonata hesitated, frowning slightly. “Fo-od,” she said hesitantly, again with that strange accent.
Sunset nodded encouragingly, pronunciation not being high on her list of priorities. “Would you like more food?” she pointed to the bag again, and then held out her hand.
Sonata stared at her cautiously for a few moments, her gaze flicking a few more times to the window. A sullen look came over her face as, Sunset imagined, she saw that the other sirens had evidently left her behind.
“Food?” Sunset coaxed, rustling the bag.
Sonata bit her lip, but with all the hesitancy of a skittish sparrow eying a hungry cat, she emerged from behind the rag pile, and came over to where Sunset knelt. Sunset kept her hand raised, but Sonata didn’t seem inclined to take it. Lowering her hand, she smiled a little tightly before standing.
The trip back to Sunset’s apartment was fraught with awkwardness and difficulty. Both her own misgivings, and Sonata’s obvious distrust, prevented any length of the journey to be remotely easy. That, and the fact that the sight of a teenage girl walking alongside a thin, vagrant child in odd clothes caught the eye of most everyone they passed.
At the wire fencing, Sonata refused Sunset’s offer of a boost, and climbed over it herself with all of the ease and dexterity of a spider. At the bus stop, Sonata stared at the cars as they went by as though she thought they might suddenly attack her, something Sunset wished she’d taken note of before trying to get her onto the bus.
“Come on, you have to get on,” Sunset said in her most soothing tone, as Sonata held tightly onto the bus stop sign.
“Err, miss?” the bus driver asked. “Do ya’ll need some help there?”
“No thank you,” Sunset trilled, bearing her teeth in what she hoped was a winning smile. “All under control.”
The bus driver, a large, square woman with a world-weary face, raised an eyebrow, and reached down the side of her seat. “You don’t reckon she’d be persuaded to get on?” she asked, holding up a lolly-pop. “Ya get more flies with honey. I keep a stash just for cases like this,” she added at Sunset’s questioning look.
Sunset wondered if that meant the driver often encountered kids clinging to metal posts.
“Food,” Sunset said, which got Sonata’s attention. Sonata opened her eyes and looked around to see the driver waving the lolly-pop. Within half a minute, Sonata was huddled on a seat next to Sunset, looking fearfully around at the bus’ interior, as though she was regretting letting the sugary treat tempt her into the belly of this mechanical beast. Sunset tried to comfort her as best she could, and Sonata seemed too scared to pull away from her encompassing arm.
Even the walk to her apartment had its fair share of difficulty, since Sonata had a fascination for just about every shop they passed. Sunset frequently stopped as Sonata pressed her nose up to shop windows, staring at the window displays and mumbling strange words. Once or twice, with a keen eye for intent, Sunset saw Sonata eying several shop patrons in a particular way. Taking Sonata’s wrist, she half walked, half dragged her back to the apartment building, Sonata griping and moaning all the way.
“Oh my,” said Old Jim, the doorman, as Sunset finally crossed the threshold of the building. “Who’s this young dear?” he asked good-naturedly. “Relative of yours?”
“Y-Yes,” Sunset stuttered. “Yeah, um, younger cousin. Just visiting, you know?”
“Well hello there,” Jim smiled creakily at Sonata over his desk. Sonata retreated behind Sunset’s leg, looking thoroughly mistrustful. “Oh dear,” Jim chuckled. “Don’t worry, Sunny-girl, I get that reaction a lot.” He pulled a funny face, which with his whiskery cheeks and deep-set wrinkles, looked like it could be an internet meme.
Sunset smirked as she heard Sonata try to hold in a laugh, which escaped in a snort through her nose.
“Ah ha!” Jim cackled. “There, you see. Old Jim’s not all bad, eh?” He sat back, chuckling, whilst Sunset smiled down at Sonata. The girl’s face went red, but she tried to cover herself by folding her arms and pouting.
When they finally reached Sunset’s apartment, Sunset watched Sonata carefully to see if she reacted to being back here. Sonata showed no signs of negative association with the place at all; she simply looked around with a vague, child’s interest, touching everything and picking things up to look them over. Sunset didn’t much mind; she didn’t have too many valuables, and none that were easily accessible to Sonata. Watching her from the kitchen, she fished around in the fridge.
“You like orange juice?” she asked. She didn’t think Sonata understood, but she held up the bottle for her to see.
Sonata trotted over to the counter, and watched Sunset pour the juice into a glass, and push it towards her. Stopping only to give the drink a suspicious sniff, she drank it down in one go, and eagerly held out the glass for a refill. Sunset smiled indulgently as she refilled the glass.
Please, sir. Can I have some more? she thought.
OJ in hand, Sonata returned to examining the room some more whilst Sunset rummaged around for something she could eat. She didn’t have much snack-able stuff; her parents had taught her the value of cooking, and cook she would when possible.
“Then again, I do have a few frozen TV dinners...” she murmured to herself.
Without Sunset noticing, Sonata set her glass down on the coffee table, and started picking up random things from it. A magazine, some lipstick, a beverage coaster, and—
Just as she’d clicked the ‘Start’ button on the microwave, Sunset jumped as a scream tore through the room, and something fell to the floor with a plastic clatter. She peered into the living room, and opened her mouth uncertainly.
“Sonata?” she called. The girl was nowhere to be seen. She looked to the door, which was still shut and locked. “Sonata? Where’d you—“ But upon stepping out of the kitchen area, she found Sonata crouching behind the sofa. “What are you doing?”
Sonata didn’t say anything, but tentatively put her head around the side of the couch, and stared fearfully at something beyond. Sunset followed her gaze, and saw in addition to the remote control being on the floor, the television had come on.
“You’ve never seen a TV before?” Sunset wondered aloud. When Sonata continued to stare with great distrust at the flashing screen, Sunset walked over and patted the television’s top. “It’s not going to hurt you,” she said, smiling. She picked up the remote, and sat down on the couch, patting the seat next to her. Sonata didn’t move, but simply kept staring at the television as though she thought it was going to suddenly sprout legs and chase her.
Sunset held up the remote, catching Sonata’s eye, and flipped the channel. The screen flickered, changing to an episode of Box Battles. She heard Sonata give a little gasp. She changed the channel again to an episode of Power Ponies: In Space, which finally enticed Sonata out of hiding.
Clambering over the sofa’s arm, she knelt next to Sunset, looking at the remote control with wide-eyed fascination, biting a forefinger absently. Sunset offered her the remote.
“You want to try?” Sunset asked, smilingly. “TV,” she said, pointing at the television.
“Tee-vee...” Sonata repeated, hovering a finger over the remote with painful hesitation. Pressing the up button, the channel flickered again. Sunset found it both endearing, and frankly hilarious, to watch Sonata gasp and giggle as the screen changed over and over.
DING!
“Oh, food’s ready,”
“Food,” Sonata agreed. “TV. Food.”
“That’s... actually correct,” Sunset said, impressed, taking the no-longer-frozen dinner out of the microwave.
When Sunset put the dinner down on the table, Sonata’s fascination with changing the channel came into conflict with her need to eat. The struggle was short, and with a single huge rumble of her small stomach, she abandoned the remote and picked up the dinner tray.
“You should use the fork,” Sunset suggested as Sonata picked out the carrots with her fingers. She held the fork up for Sonata to see. “Fork,” she said clearly.
Sonata spared it a passing glance, then carried on eating, using the little piece of bread to scoop up the peas. Sunset didn’t bother trying to teach her etiquette at that moment; it didn’t seem likely that she’d learn, nor was it particularly fair given how hungry she was.
The dinner vanished in under two minutes, at which point Sonata drained the last of the OJ, and picked up the remote again. Before she began however, a thought seemed to strike her, and she turned to look at Sunset. Bowing her head a little, she said something in her unknown language. Although Sunset didn’t understand what was said, she thought she detected a grateful tone. She was, however, somewhat astonished when from inside Sonata’s white dress, the little girl pulled a dirty, crumpled draw-string bag. Tipping the bag upside down, three of four coins fell out into Sonata’s hand, which she then held out to Sunset.
“What are you...?” Sunset asked, genuinely perplexed. Then it struck her. Sonata was paying her. “Oh no, that’s okay,” she said, smiling. She pushed the hand back, but Sonata simply moved her hand around Sunset’s and thrust the coins at her more insistently.
Sunset looked into Sonata’s determined, almost defiant expression, and felt maybe it would simply be kinder just to take the coins. A single quarter, a dime, and two rusty pennies tumbled into Sunset’s hand. Sonata smiled at her, and then returned to the television.
Sunset had sat there thinking whilst Sonata flipped the channels, eventually fixing on some cartoon about a purple dragon with a pet unicorn trying to save the world from the Moon Lizard. She pondered Sonata’s behaviour: stealing, yet reciprocating favours, her apparent inability to speak English, and the strange reactions to things like buses and televisions.
She began to doubt, more than at any other point before, whether this really was Sonata Dusk. It just seemed impossible. Absently, she reached out and plucked a lock of her blue hair. Unlike the Sonata she had known, who’d kept her long hair in a ponytail, this little version had straight, shoulder length hair with a flat fringe.
Sonata pulled her head back, looking a little creeped out.
“Sorry,” Sunset said, blushing a little. They sat awkwardly for a moment, Sonata looking uncomfortable whilst Sunset tried not to feel like someone who’d lured a little homeless girl to her house for personal gratification. The frightening thing was that in a sense, she met all of those criteria.
Pursing her lips, she stood up and retrieved a pillow and cover from her bedroom, and set it on the sofa. She hoped she didn’t have to explain this part, and despite Sonata looking uncertain, she seemed to get the gist.
When Sunset had gone to make her own dinner, however – scrambled eggs and toast – she found that Sonata was no longer watching the television, but standing in front of the window, watching the oncoming dusk.
“Something wrong?” Sunset asked.
Sonata lowered her head. “Aria...” she said sadly. “Adagio...” She said a few more things, but Sunset got the idea. She thought that she should really try to be supportive, but didn’t see how to do so, being unable to talk to her. Sitting down with her dinner, she thought that the best thing to do would be to simply be there for her.
“Ooh,” she cooed, flipping the channel to nickelodeon. She personally didn’t much like what was on, but it did have the effect of enticing Sonata over to the couch again. Sunset wasn’t paying much attention to Sonata whilst eating, but all of a sudden became aware of Sonata edging along the seat, and eventually laying her head against Sunset’s side. She did it as slowly and gently as it is possible to do, as though she thought Sunset wouldn’t notice.
Sunset didn’t mind it, and didn’t try to push the boundary. She knew, or guessed at least, that Sonata was feeling vulnerable, and wanted reassurance. Sunset wasn’t the type to take advantage of something like that.
Well, not anymore, anyway.
To say the least, the day had been a strange one. Sunset had many misgivings about her choices, and even more about what the implications of them might be, but she also knew that she couldn’t have acted any other way. She couldn’t have left them alone, three little kids on the street in winter. And she didn’t feel like she could inform the authorities either. Doing so posed a great many problems, or so it seemed to Sunset. Problems that she knew she wouldn’t be able to deal with, or figure out, alone.
When the sound of slow, heavy breathing reached her, Sunset carefully lifted Sonata’s head from her and down onto the pillow, and stood up, careful not to wake the girl. Picking up her phone from coffee table, she flipped it open, and began typing a collective text message.
To: Pink, AJ, RD, Rar, Shy.
We need to talk. Meet at SCC tomorrow at 10
- To be Continued