Gold. Silver. Frankincense. Myrrh. Gifts fit for a God, but what is fit for the King of Birmingham?
What is fit for a man that already has everything a man could possibly want?
A little bit of Gold created Chaos, perhaps?
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
An abrupt and heavy knock, or rather several knocks, at the door of Polly Greys Watery Lane home woke her up from her relatively peaceful slumber. Had she been sleeping in her bed, she probably wouldn't have heard it- but luckily for whoever was at the door, she had accidentally drifted off in front of the warmth of the fire.
Without hesitation, she grabbed one of the larger guns she had hidden around the house, in Small Heath she couldn't be too careful. Had it been months ago, before the Italians decided to invade and disrupt the life of the Shelby clan, she would've answered the door regardless of the time of day. But the moment the hopeful sun had set behind the clouds of misery, was when the monsters came out to play.
Thomas would know, he was one of them.
Standing at the door, hand on the handle, crouched away from the window as much as possible, she braced herself.
"Who is it?" Her voice called out, firmly.
To show weakness through a wooden door was a fools game. A deadly fools game, or was it a sign of trickery? To act weak to the opponent to gain the upper hand—
"Josette Gold, ma'am! It's urgent!" the young girls voice called out, true and genuine paralysing fear laced through each word.
Polly Gray was no fool, the Gold family couldn't be trusted- but there was something about the girls voice that pulled at her heartstrings enough to crack the door open. Her face was as white as snow, though when she had first encountered the fifteen year old, she had a healthy glow. This was real, it was no trick or scheme to get her out into the open.
Christ, Polly thought to herself, her slender arm reaching out through the crack- latching on to the others arm. With a gentle tug, Josette had been pulled inside the matriarchs home.
"It's— it's about Friday. Somethings going to happen and our Milly knows..." To Polly, the girl wasn't making much sense.
How could someone know about a day that was two sleeps away? How could she know anything about the going's on of a day so up in the air that Thomas nor Polly herself even truly knew what was going to happen.
"Trust me- please!"
Something within her snapped, nothing that the girl could say could get her to have trust in that family, but everyone deserved the chance to voice their opinion. They lived in a democratic state, much to some dismay from the average man.
"Your family has given me little reason to have trust in what you have to say, Ms Gold." Pollys words were cold, but the sharp shrill of the phone cut her off from saying anything else.
What in the heavens, Polly thought to herself. Whoever was ringing her at such an unholy hour must have a good reason to be calling.
"Polly- it's Tom. I think it's best we hear these Golds through. Reconvene tomorrow at noon." Thomas called out, this time Polly had no time to talk and before she had a second to reply he had hung up.
