The disembodied voice broke through the stunned silence.

Yes, it always amazes me when one who fights so valiantly for justice through law turns and breaks the most sacred of society’s rules. But then, that is not what I wanted to say. We really must move ourselves into the conference room so that our spiritual cleansing may continue.

At that very moment, the doorway to the conference room opened.

“What the fuck do you know about spiritual cleansing, you asshole?” shouted Sheryl’s mother, Claire. “What the fuck do you know about anything? You sit in your room speaking to us as a child speaks to their naughty dolls! Have you ever suffered? What the hell gives you the right to play games with so many people?”

Now, now, Claire, you must calm down before I am forced to calm you down myself.

Claire let out a shriek of terror and collapsed to the ground. She was shaking terribly, but managed to curl herself into the fetal position. Sheryl sat on the ground, with her arms around her mother in an uncharacteristically gentle manner. It was because of this that Sheryl heard what her mother was muttering:

“Not suicide not suicide not suicidenotsuicidenotsuicidenotsuicidenotsuicide”

The mutter began slowly, but formed into a mantra of sorts—all the words running together. And Sheryl knew exactly what it meant, but before she knew it, six men were are her mother’s side insisting that she calm down.

It was while the entire room was focused on Claire, that Simon took his chance of escaping without being seen. He had slid over near the door when it opened. Now he silently slipped out. He managed quietly through the conference room to an electronic number pad on the other side. Then he pulled a well-worn piece of paper out of his jeans pocket and read the fading numbers before punching them into the lock. With a hiss, the door slid open and Simon managed to sneak into a long hallway.

Simon was glad for his vacation romance several years ago, because without it, he wouldn’t have even glanced twice at the J.K. Rowling novel. However, it reminded him so much of Patrick and the running jokes they made about the sexual inclinations of the characters. They got so into it that they read the book together in a matter of days and were able to argue each character’s orientation in such a thorough manner that even Ms. Rowling herself would be impressed.

Through the simple act of reminiscing, Simon had unlocked a wealth of information on where he was staying exactly how he might be able to find the elusive Vanderkin. For, as he opened the book to the spot where Harry chooses his want, a piece of folded paper fell out onto his lap.

He quickly pushed it aside while Charlie was retrieving the whisky. Later, alone in his room, he hid the paper slightly under the bedclothes and tentatively opened it. He was shocked to see hand sketched floor plans covered in directions that were written so tiny they were almost microscopic. But what really sealed the deal for Simon, was seeing the hand-signed initials at the bottom. It caused his heart to lurch and his stomach to drop at the sight of P.V.M. He tried to convince himself that it was a trick his eyes were playing on him—there was a great deal of stress these days, but after much scrutiny he realized that the signature did look very familiar indeed.

tag Jo