Chapter Eight

I'm on plane to the Southern Coast today, Mr. Scott organised this plane for me. I'm worried the plane is going to fall out of the sky from the burden of my suitcase, but a girl's gotta do what a girl's gotta do.

It's Friday eight o'clock, which means it's nine at my destination. I'm scheduled to leave the plane in an hour, and when I get off, a driver will be waiting to take me to a hotel. When I arrive at the hotel, eleven o'clock Southern Coast time, I take a moment to gaze at the building. I've seen it so many times growing up, but I've never fully appreciated it. The Southern coast isn't a city, it's a large town that stretches along the beach, so the hotel isn't huge; it's old with beautifully crafted beams and decorated roofing lining the top of it, like my childhood home. I breathe in that familiar salty air before a man takes my bags and helps me to my room.

My guess is that if the Southern Docks are anything like the Eastern Ones, Mr. Scott will be staying above the Dock in