*finished* That's not Francis [Milkman fanfic]

You are in danger

I arrive home and see Anastacha asleep on the couch. She's truly a sweet child, even if she acts cool and pretends to be careless, I'm glad I can see a different side of her now.

Still, the disappearance of Nacha has left the entire building in fear. Nothing unusual happened that can be connected to her disappearance and the fact that her daughter is still here makes it even more depressing to think about. Nobody could help her and it was the best decision to have her stay inside for her own safety. We tend to forget how bad the crime rate really is. Homeless humans are desperate for survival at the moment.

The keys to the apartment, I found them between the pile of clothes she left in my bathroom. That could only mean one thing...

I take matters into my own hands now. Fuck it.

Her apartment is surprisingly clean. Not that I expected her to be messy, but it was almost too perfect.

I look through her kitchen to see quite some interesting exotic spices, strange cooking utensils, pictures of Anastacha...

I can't help but feel like I'm being watched.

Her desk is perfectly organized. I look through her papers. Just a contract for her job, a letter from the school Anastacha is going to, advertisement for spices and... wait... I see something written on paper but it's in a foreign language?!

I have never seen that before.

"Good morning, Anastacha!" I say as I serve breakfast. She rubs her eyes and silently sits down to eat scrambled eggs. I turn around to wash my own plate, as I had finished already. As I turn back around I can't help but laugh. She fell asleep, resting her head right next to the plate. "Wake up, Miss Stone is going to be here soon"

Mia Stone got back safely, however due to her injury she can't leave this place. So we used that opportunity to have her give Anastacha lessons right here. I tidy up the sofa and wait for her to finish the plate.

I head downstairs to work, as I meet Francis. He gives me a soft smile, my heart almost skipping a beat. I smile back, hoping I didn't blush again, hoping I don't look like an idiot again.

I brew coffee in the machine and place it on the table. "Good morning! I'm a bit early, I'm heading to the library for 5 minutes. I'll be right back and then we can print the list together, okay?" I tell the young man from the nightshift. He's deeply engrossed in the newspaper and just nods, barely acknowledging my existence.

I take my white purse and head over to the library. It's right on the other side of the street. The librarian checks my papers and opens the gate for me. "Do you have any books about languages?" I ask. She points to a shelf.

I walk out with a bunch of books, barely even able to carry them myself.

I blace them on the table next to the coffee machine and take my cup.

Today, my job isn't too busy and I look forward to my time off tomorrow. I spend hours reading the books, comparing them well with the language in the letter, yet I can't find anything, not even close.

Anastacha is done with school and heads downstairs to sit at the table behind me, drawing pictures again. Silence fills the room and we barely talk for a few hours.

"Anastacha?" I ask. She looks at me "Have you ever seen this?" She looks at the letter, trying to figure out what it says, only to look at me and shake her head. I sigh. "I'm trying to find out what language this is but no matter what, I haven't found anything. I looked through all of these books.."

"I could ask Mr. Gauss, he has travelled the world. And I heard he's fluent in 5 languages" Anastacha tells me, determination evident on her face. I nod and she runs upstairs.