"Not in the cards, huh?" James sighed out and scratched the back of his head, "Do you miss them? Your parents?" There's oblivion in those words as he stands up, "But you must have other clients, don't you?"

Clients who wouldn't probe so deep into a stranger's mind and past, but something about Linden (maybe it was the jet-black hair or those deep eyes) that reminded Sunderland of Angela, of all people. Granted, the man had different baggage but the pain, the skin sticking to what is essentially bone and lean muscle, it was like seeing her again.