To Be A Dove (TBAS Sequel)

Chapter 1

Hello! Welcome to the second book of TBA.

If you haven't read the first one, please go back and read it! Otherwise you won't understand much of this second book.

Where are my old scrappers at?! THANK YOU SO SO MUCH FOR SUPPORTING ME SINCE THE BEGINNING <3

To all of you who patiently waited for part 2 to come out, thank you so much for your support! And hello to our new readers who will join us on this rollercoaster of emotions, haha.

On to the reading <3

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Tell me what you remember."

The words seemed to bounce against the walls of the nearly empty room, the monotone sound making it easily forgettable as it seemed to exist one second and completely disappear the next. Even the faint ticking of the clock hands moving ever so slowly had a fuller sound than that of the unknown man who sat before Emi, hands crossed atop his lap as he bounced one ankle above his knee.

One would think Emi was refusing to speak, choosing to shelter herself between the silence that loomed over both figures. The truth of the matter, however, was that she couldn't answer.

The silence gave room for the clock hands to amplify against her ears.

It was driving her insane.

What did she remember?

Two figures of what her mind vaguely recalled were her paternal figures lying on the floor. Her body hidden inside a closet.

Was all that real?

Sinful hands ripping her away, only to throw her inside a cold, damp and grimy cell.

How did she end up there?

A pair of piercing red eyes, dotted by a black iris that expanded as if it were a balloon slowly inflating itself, only to deflate once again as the darkness came over the room.

Rei.

She gulped, the pressure of her chest giving way to a sense of desperation that she knew not how to control, but longed to get rid of. So she swallowed the lump in her throat and attempted to make a recollection of the events that had led up to her being subject of an interrogation by the CCG.

"We were supposed to scrap."

She began, and for some reason she expected the words to sting a little when she uttered them. A look at the man's face told her that he already knew why they had been at the restaurant.

"Did you scrap?"

A silent nod of the head. She let a few strands of hair stray their way over her forehead, partially shielding her vision.

"I was the first one."

"That means there were more of you. How many?"

If the clock stopped screaming against her ear drums, maybe Emi could've controlled the urge to clench her jaw shut, hands curling against the white dress that was given to her, considering the possibility of ripping the cloth and stuffing it inside her ears.

"How many scrappers were there?" The question was restated.

"I don't know." She whispered.

"You do. We have enough information to tell whether what you're telling us is the truth or not. Now, why don't you tell me about that purple haired boy?"