Drew moves slowly down the darkened sidewalk. Her square-toed boots lightly thud with her steps, and the bottom of her black trench coat flaps and dances around her legs. The hum of passing traffic fades away as her thoughts envelope her. (That girl in the coffes shop gave me the closest thign I've had to conversation in months.) Tears begin to lightly swell in her eyes, a lump grows in her throat.

(Even with the Roma gone, I'm still alone.)

An image of Theresa passes across her mind. Rage swells within her chest. Had that old bitch kept her mouth shut, Drew would be normal and happy. Drew wouldn't be an outcast, Drew wouldn't be alone. (But it isn't just Theresa, all the Roma abandoned me, none of them are innocent.)

Drew knows it is now time. The ritual that will set her free is now ready to be executed. The moon is full and Drew craving for escape is greater than ever. She stops walking and turn to stand on the edge of the curb, she steps dwon and unlocks her car. She walks around and sits down. She thoughtlessly starts it up and then pulls out onto the Streets.

Venus gets out of her car right outside of a shop, and looks up at the window with an almost searing glare. It shared the same air of silent danger that Venus herself had. "Perhaps I shall find you here." She takes a step forward, moving her lythe figure toward Westbook Antiques. She doesn't seem to be all that worried about being discovered, no being distracted with trying to look inconspicuous or sneaky.