Krampusnacht

Part II

"Hey," Genevieve awoke to Simon sitting beside her. They were in the naughty children's room.

He asked, "how are you feeling?"

"Cold," her teeth chattered as her breath materialized above them. Her hands felt like they were on fire. It was that sensation one felt if they had been out in the cold too long, and any feeling of heat scolded.

"We found you digging out in the snow, do you remember that?" Simon held her hands in his.

A flurry of thoughts, and emotions choked her. The hill. The red pick up truck. Pavol. Sylvia. Snow. Cold. "Sylvia! Where is she?"

"You should have never told her about this place," a figure came out from the shadows standing next to Simon. The ex-Interpol agent sighed, and rolled his eyes.

"Robert? What are you doing here?" Genevieve sat up, staring at the tall, salt and pepper haired man before her. He wore a dark beige trench coat, and navy blue blazer.

"Your boyfriend told me there was a ninety-five percent chance that Sylvia was here. That's statistically significant in my book," her ex husband explained.

"I'm not her boyfriend," Simon had already regretted bringing Robert along.

"She is here! I've spent that last two days with her. Hugging. Playing. Sleeping in a cot with her. Oh, she is here Robert! She is," Genevieve smiled. "This is the room they've been keeping us in at night. Why are we here?" Genevieve began to look around the room, and she noticed that it was cleaner, "how long have I been out?"

"A little over twenty four hours. We think you developed a moderate case of hypothermia," Simon purposed looking at his phone, specifically Web M.D.

The two men regarded her as if she was deranged. Robert folded his arms. Simon stood up and began pacing. " Genvieve, this is going to sound odd, I'm sure, but truth be told, we've found nothing to conclusively determine that Sylvia was here."

The mother, who felt like she'd been to Hell and back, could only respond back with, "What? Are you crazy?" Genevieve couldn't believe what these two were saying.

That can't be, she thought to herself, and then quickly analyzed what that would've meant.

"You said it yourself, Gene. My description of Sylvia wasn't too descriptive," Simon looked at her pensively, "have you really been with your daughter or someone who was lost, and forgot what their mother looked like? I've spoken with some of these children. Most are very emotionally, and mentally damaged. Maybe, you wanted to find Sylvia so badly that you began loving somebody who just looked like her."

"It's just not possible," Genevieve claimed out of disbelief.

"Oh, c'mon Genevieve! We all know you've had problems with alcohol, and drugs over the last eleven months. It doesn't take Inspector Clouseau to detect what's really going on here," Robert yelled.

"We have all had problems this past year. Forgive me if I'm not taking them out on a blonde, twenty-something year old in the bedroom," Genevieve snarled back.

Robert muttered something to himself, but Genevieve could care less. Simon decided to pick it up with his question, "what do you know about this man named Pavol?"

Genevieve rolled her eyes, and sighed, "he's a really big, creepy guy. He carries a gun?" She just wanted to know where Sylvia was. She didn't care about the town. She didn't care about Robert. She didn't even care about Pavol.

"The reason I ask is because he's been very cooperative, but very smug. What else do you know about him?" Simon questioned.

Genevieve shrugged, shivering.