The “Irish Pub” is the best place to gather information that would normally never be found. I walk in and the place is empty, except for the barkeep. He looks me over with a grimace; I think he hates me because I take advantage of his clientele. I sit at the bar, raise two fingers to him and look into the mirror across from me. I see Mariella wrap her arm around my shoulders and kiss me on the check.
“Looking good, sweetheart,” I say to her and my reflection. “Have you seen Coswell around?”
She messes her fingers in my hair and mouths yes. Sometimes their voices are not audible to my ears. I take a sip of my drink and see Coswell come from the shadows to sit next to me at the bar. He grabs the second glass on the bar and empties it into his grey mouth.
“I need some help,” I said smiling into the mirror.
“It’s just like you to come back here whining for some help after what you put us through a few weeks ago,” Coswell growled, the sound barrier between the land of the dead and living dissipated again.
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