He walked into the room, flipping on the aging lights. The decade old safe house reeked of mothy 80s style furniture and spider webs.
“What are we going to do?” a small voice squeaked from behind.
He knelt down, looking into frightened green eyes, “Sleep. We are going to sleep and then find that house by the ocean you always wanted. How does that sound?”
She nodded her little head, but he knew they weren’t far behind.
They arrived a couple hours later finding her sleeping and him gone. Four worded letter on the counter: “Wants to live oceanside.”
Word Count: 99
Photo Prompt from Rochelle Wisoff-Fields Blog