"If life were predictable, it would cease to be life and be without flavor." -Eleanor Roosevelt
Xavior POV:
After talking to Vincent, I went to find my mother. Who, by the way, was in the arms of a guard when I did find her. As soon as he saw me, he paused, causing her to look up at me. I told the guard to leave. My mother stood up and fixed her blouse. I asked her for the information.
She said she didn’t know. But sure, my father does. And that she will find out the information. I asked her how, and she said my father writes a lot of s**t down. Most of which he plans to put together to make his version of scripture. He actually releases one every century.
“Mom, I need a favor”, I said to her.
“It must be a big one if you are calling me mom instead of mother”, she said, smirking.
