Re: [B&B: Nishka and Atticus]
Didn't push. She nodded her agreement about the accident. Was enough. If she wanted to say more, she would've said more. Didn't push. She frowned, and Atticus knew when to leave things alone. Was in his nature to leave things alone. Took another swig of his beer, another drag of his cigarette, and then her smile came back. Small smile, but Atticus assumed the moment had passed.
Inclined his head when she said ghosts weren't real. Wasn't here to convince her. The town would convince her. The B&B would convince her. Second floor ghost was a mischievous old woman who liked to turn the water cold while people showered. Teenage boy that hung out toward the back of the house liked to leave messages in steamed mirrors, mostly things about current music he liked people to play or Netflix shows he wanted to watch. The little girl that ran up and down the stairs, blonde pigtails and a pink dress, just wanted to play. The entire first floor was filled with permanent residents, retirees, and their spouses liked to play checkers in the front room. The house would show itself soon enough.
"LA. I'm from out East. Been to California a few times. Didn't like it much." Was true. Missed New York sometimes. Missed Chicago. Those were his places. "Sorry," he said about the accident happening in LA. "Been working in Chicago recently. Curated the opening of the American Literature museum there." Ashed his cigarette. "Liked the place."
Took another drag from the smoke, and he regarded her with aged hazel eyes. "Won't bring him back." Finding who did it. "But I guess seeing them rot behind bars might help." Atticus wasn't a bad man, but he wasn't a good one. Understood the desire for revenge, even if it was something he was generally too lazy to pursue. Wasn't worried about the spoken knowledge someone had been in the accident with her; wasn't much of a stretch.