After the mysterious death of her father, Violet, a determined young woman, moves to London to uncover the truth behind his death.
Living in a small apartment in Camden struggling to cope with her grief and guilt over unfinished credits from her la...
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"She wore a thousand faces all to hide her own." - unknown ——
[16 years ago]
"Dad! I miss you!!" Violet's voice chirps through the phone, the high-pitched excitement evident in her words.
"How's my favorite star doing?!" Bentley asks his daughter who's in Chicago as he walks the streets of London.
"Good!! I just miss you. Mommy is helping me plant some flowers! She says they are called Dahlias!! Do you wanna talk to her?!" Violet's voice bubbles with enthusiasm, her words rushing out in a stream of excitement.
"Oh man, how cool is that! I wish I was there sweetie. And yes put your mom on the phone for me." Bentley responds, walking into the coffee shop where he's meeting his old friend for a chat.
"Hi, honey!! How's London? The girls miss you, more Violet than the sneaky one in my tummy but she's been kicking more since you left." Victoria explains, leaving a smile on Bentley's face as he takes a seat at a lonely table near the back of the cafe.
"It's as beautiful as I remember, maybe we should move here after little bean in your tummy gets older," Bentley says his British accent thicker than ever.
"If you sound like that after a few days of being there then sign me up." Victoria laughs. Bentley chuckles with her. The light of her presence even through the phone makes his heart flutter even after so many years of being together.
"How's little bean? If you have any contractions call me, I know you're not in your last trimester but still." Bentley states, looking around the cafe for a second.
Dark oak walls surround him. The warm lights above give the space around a light cozy feel. The smell of dark roast and sweet pastries made him feel a bit fuzzy.
"She is okay, just being a bit of a kicker. And if I do feel anything, you'll be the first to know. When is Thomas meeting you?" She asks.
"In a couple of minutes," Bentley says looking at the entrance as if Thomas would walk in that very moment.
"Okay update me, Violet is dying for me to get back to planting. I love you." She says, hearing Violet's complaints in the background.
A chuckle escapes Bentley's throat, "Okay my love, I love you more." And with that, he hangs up.
As he waited, he watched people walk in and out of the coffee shop; observing was one thing he loved to do. He thought of it as its own form of art.
An employee walks over and offers something to drink. Bentley looked over at the boy who stood in front of him and responded "Yes, that would be lovely. An americano, please. Thank you."
