Tolk made many mistakes in life, but for some reason, blabbering his mouth was the biggest. Looking at the angry faces around him, he knew he might have said too much—said too loudly.
"Uhm, hello," Tolk said with a smile akin to a cry, one that morphed the closer they came. "I am sorry."
He laughed, crooked and sincere. If nearly peeing his pants was the definition of sincere.
"Talk that again, and you will be sorry," said a very disgruntled, big-bodied man, seemingly molded from bricks. By the way everyone followed his back, his position was not low. For criminals, weaklings stray around the strong and vile. This man.
'He's different,' Alistair thought with racing thoughts, plans, and schemes dancing in his mind.
But in his contemplation, the brick wall pushed Tolk and stepped to him. A presence that blocked the view.
"You, the last ones, saw you through the window," he said. "You don't look like the shit."
