"What do you mean your mother is dead? When? How? Then who is in that dungeon room in the Trent Villa?" Calder asked. Syria bit her bottom lip as she looked at Calder. "... Can we go inside? Please?" She whispered desperately. Calder felt a stab in his heart. The way Syria's tears collected in the corners of her eyes and how lips trembled as the colour of her face drained practically strangled his heart.
"Ya, ya, sure." Calder replied awkwardly as he slowly released Syria from his embrace. "No! Don't let go!" Syria shouted as she clung to the collar of Calder's shirt. "Syria?" Calder called out gently. "Please, just don't let me go." Syria cried. Calder slightly bent down and scooped Syria up. "Joseph, sorry about the or-cha-ta but can I ask you to lead the way to your house. I promise to come back for the pot." Calder said apologetically.
