Trivia Chaney arrives a couple hours late to her first modeling shoot igniting her Uncle's violent fury. In a moment of pain and weakness Isis unveils truths about Trivia's family, inadvertently strengthening their connection; only to have it silenced by a mass of unknown poi performers. More
Isis is most likely the forgotten cartilage softening my heart; the disregarded synaptic communications directing my actions closer to her side, and she is the only one I comprehend, I want her. Fuck the debris.
The paramedics lift Isis off of the ground. After one final warning glare, I follow along and hop inside the ambulance. With my phone in one hand, I hold onto Isis more for my sake than hers. “Hello,” Azzura answers. “Something’s happened, I need your help,” I say. “Is she okay,” Azzura’s voice growls low. “I don’t know,” I say. Azzura’s silence delivers an answer to a question that I have been toying with. How involved are these two with the mad Figaro? “Isis said this would start like this.” Azzura pauses. “Text me your location, I’m on my way.”