"Thank you both for dinner." I smile as I stand, hoping they don't notice that I've only eaten about half of the food on the plate. "I've been eating salads since I moved."

        "Oh, no problem. It was our pleasure," Moria assures, setting her plate in the sink.

        "I can help you with dishes if you'd like." I offer. 

        "Absolutely not." Moira frets. "You're a guest. Why don't you go watch the news with James while I set up for dessert?" She shooes me away.

        Dessert? I think in distaste, I could barely handle dinner.

        Nevertheless, I sit on the leather couch opposite James. A coffee table seperates us. His eyes flicker to watch me briefly, lingering ever so slightly on my legs, but then he directs his gaze to the television screen.

        The weather man is talking about how 'it'll be cloudy this week' as if that was news.

        "So, Sparrow." James begins, still looking at the balding man on TV. "What did you do before you moved?

        I bite my lip as I contemplate telling him, wondering if he'd judge me. "I was a lingerie model and a beauty pageant contestant on and off for about a year before I became secretary to the CEO of Delcoy Enterprises."

        "Really?" He says, finally meeting my gaze. "You were secretary to Aric Delcoy?"

        A flood of memories invade my mind, clouding my ability to respond temporarily.

        The feeling of a rough mouth is burned into my skin. On my chin, on my throat . . . everywhere.  

        I can still feel the edge of a desk against my pelvis as experienced hands pull away my panties.

        I blink away the image of a perfect view of the city from the office of Aric Delcoy, still feeling his harsh grip on my hips.

        "Uhm . . . yeah." I clear my throat. "I worked for him for a while."

        "That seems like a pretty sweet job." He furrows his brows. "What made you quit?"

        I swallowed, trying to think of an answer. 

        "His wife didn't like me very much." I reply, and it's true. Caroline hated me even before she found out her husband was banging me over his desk. 

        "She was probably just jealous." He smiles.

        "I know I'd be." Moira says, appearing next to James. She leans against the side of the couch. "I'd hate a woman as pretty as you spending so much time with my husband."

        "Thank you." I blush.

        "Hey, look." James cuts in, eyes on the television screen. "Another body was found this afternoon."

        The picture of a blonde woman, around twenty with sweet brown eyes, flashes on the screen.

        "Eva Delmark, age twenty-two, was found at a playground around two-o'clock this afternoon on a swingset after being reported missing two days ago." A reporter states, a playground I'd seen when I'd first moved in, in the a background.

        The program cuts to a crying man. The bottom of the screen reads : 'Xavier Delmark, husband of victim.'

        "She just went out for a walk a few days ago." He says through tears. "I never though this would happen."

        The screen flickers to the reporters in the studio. "Eva is believed to be the fifth victim of a continuous killer here in town and police are working hard to make sure she is the last - until then, please be safe and call the number below if you have any information regarding the case."

        James clicks the TV off and we're silent for a moment, unsure what to say.

        "Wow." Moira breathes after a while. "This is getting really serious."

        I'm still speechless.

        "It's Coult, I swear." James says, rising slowly. "It has to be."

        For a second, I'm utterly confused, but then I remember the warning I was given.

        "You don't know that, James." Moira snaps defensively. "It could be the goddamn barber for all we know."

        "No, it's Coult." He denies. "He's always staring at women. He rarely speaks. He lives alone in that house in the woods."

        "And?" She retaliates hotly. "You're always staring at women. It's just what men do. Just because he's not the friendliest, doesn't mean he's a murderer."

        Moira was growing on me.

        "It doesn't mean he isn't." James shrugs, falling back into the couch.

      "I should go." I say quietly. They both turn to me in surprise.

        "What?" Moira blinks in confusion. "Why? You haven't even had dessert."

        "It's getting late and I'm tired from unpacking. Maybe next time?" I smile pleasantly.

        "Oh." Moira says in understanding. "Of course, of course. You should get some rest. It's been a long day."

        My shoulders slump slightly in relief.

        "I'll walk you home." James offers, standing.

        "Oh, no. It's fine. I'm literally just next door." I decline, shaking my head.

        "Sparrow." He says seriously. "If you think I'm letting you walk home alone with a murderer out there, you're insane. I insist you let me walk you to your door."

        I look to Moira, who nods in agreement. "Alright,"  I relent, rising to my feet. Moira grins and stands to pull me into a hug. 

        "It was nice meeting you, Sparrow." She says kindly as she takes a step back. 

        "You too. Thank you for the lovely evening." I reply honestly.

        James is waiting at the door with my coat. He holds it out for me to slide into.

        "Goodnight." I call over my shoulder as I step outside. James closes the door behind us.

        The sky is darker than before, a shade of dark blue. I hug my coat around me as we make our way out of the yard.

        "Your wife is lovely." I breathe into the chilly air, smiling up at James.

        "She is." He agrees with a smile of his own, shoulder brushing mine as we walk down the sidewalk.

        "How did you two meet?" I inquire curiously, goosebumps rising on my pale legs.

        "High school." He grins. "We were a cliché couple. She was the cheerleader, I was the quarterback."

        "That's adorable." I say. "I wish I'd met someone then."

        "I'm sure you had a boyfriend." He furrows his dark brows, shooting me an incredulous look.

        "Nope. My father didn't want me dating anyone until college." I shrug sheepishly.

        "And you listened to him? Never went behind his back to sneak off with the bad boy or anything like that?" He queeries as we approach my fence.

        "No way. I felt guilty enough after my first kiss." I laugh.

        "Oh, really? And how was it?" He asks.

        "It was a sweet, quick kiss. Nothing to brag about." I answer, climbing up the porch.

         "Mine was sloppy and wet." He snorts.

        "Not with Moira, I assume?" 

        "No," He laughs. "I wish. It was in elementary with a brunette named 'Sam'."

        We were at the door now, and a slight silence lingered in the air.

         "Was she cute?" I ask.

        "She was . . . average, I guess." He shrugs. "And rude."

        "Did she steal your lunch money?" I tease, rocking gently on my heels.

        His eyes flickered to the floor, a slow smile begining on his face. "Possibly."

        I laugh, shaking my head. A moment passes as we settle down. I decide that I've left things on a good note and meet his eyes. His head is tilted down ever so slightly and he has this little smirk on his face, the moon illuminating his skin. 

        "Thank you for dinner and walking me home, James." I thank him honestly, grabbing his shoulder with one hand for support whilst I lean up to kiss his cheek.

        He seems vaguely surpised, but recovers quickly. "No problem. Thank you for being our guest."

        "Maybe we can do this again sometime?"I offer, a little hesitantly.

        "Of course." He says as I reach for the key in my pocket. I move to open the door and he waits for me to turn back to him.

        "Goodnight, James." I say sweetly. He stuffs his hands into his pocket and offers me one more smile.

        "Sweet dreams, Sparrow." He murmurs as he steps down the porch. I watch him travel all the way to the fence before slipping inside.