Thirty-Six: An Impending Doom.

“Here.” Francesca penned down her signature before handing the papers to Aaron. He lifted his dark pair of shades to his forehead, abandoning the few bags he’d already packed. The sun, above the horizons speared through the windows and hit him in the corner of his eyes.

“Can i take this?” A guard asked, drawing his attention away from his wife and he just nodded briskly. “What is this?” He turned back to Fran who leaned against the wooden wardrobe with the italian carvings. She took a breath of the air with the intention to savor the last of it before they got on the plane back to Salem.

“The clinic i reached across to” She said quietly, running her hands through her blonde hair which she’d packed to fall across her face—the face time she wore it that way, not that her husband cared so much.

“They agreed to get back to us in a few weeks” Those words were enough to convince him to sign across the ledger and he handed the papers over to Francesca. “We’re really doing this” He echoed as