The bus vibrated. Marcel sat next to Alessandra, her head leaning against the window. The landscape was a slow parade of trees, bent poles, and houses that seemed to be fleeing from something.

"Comment ça s'appelle, the town we're going to? I've never been to this area... it smells of thyme and suspect..." -Marcel asked.

"Bayou La Batre in Alabama. They say there are old records of French families. Maybe..." -Alessandra shrugged. "Maybe something will help us."

"Merci." -Marcel said. His voice was low. It always was when he talked about them.

Marcel, previously, talked about Cassandra to her. He said everything he told to Miss Alice the previous night, and he told about his desire of meeting her again. Alessandra kept a promise to Marcel to help him to reunite with her.

Meanwhile...

Tanya, still inside her crystal sphere, floated on Najima's lair, playing with a deck of cards that shuffled themselves. Najima, sitting like an angry, elegant lady, stared out a magical mirror, watching them with gritted teeth.

"Bitch, how slow they are, damn! This driver has the reaction time of a stupid man with a hangover." -Tanya said, with her voodoo accent.

"Patience, Tanya. Patience..." -Najima said, laughing with a low noise.

She raised a hand, very subtly, and whispered a spell. In less than two minutes, the driver blinked. Then again. And again. And then, he simply… fell asleep at the wheel.

"STOP, STOP!!" -A woman called Alise shouted, noticing it instantly.

Alessandra bravely jumped over the seats, gently pushed the driver to the side, and took the wheel. The bus spun sharply, throwing several cats and a magic drum against the walls.

Tanya squealed from her sphere:

"BITCH, WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT?! PRINCE CHARMING MOMENT? WHAT?!" -Tanya shouted.

Najima snorted: "Next time I'll do it all by myself."

The bus stabilized. Alessandra was breathing heavily. Tanya looked at the mirror as if she wanted to applaud... but not quite.

"And you could have prevented me from failing to fulfill my will." -Najima said to Tanya, angrily.

The tension in the air could have been split with a spoon. When they reached Bayou La Batre, everyone got out in silence.

They searched for the Lacroix family in archives. Nothing. Genealogical lists. Nothing. His father's second surname didn't appear in any of the archives...

"It can't be," -Alessandra said, frustrated. "There can't be no person with that last name. That's not normal."

Marcel, meanwhile, continued to wait. As if he could still hear his sister's voice calling him. But the air in Bayou La Batre was already growing thicker.

TO BE CONTINUED.