"Me," she queried the smoke falling from her lips before she stole another breathe. "My story was cast away a long time ago," Hela eased, her long fingers gently flicking the ash from her cigarette. "I'm still working on writing up some new pages. I'll get back to you when I have something more concrete.
After a few moments she felt that answer was a cop out; however true it might have been. She had come to California to try to give herself a new chance at life. Yet, the old one would always haunt her. From her name, to the choices she made, the scars of prior mistakes, and the memories which she kept locked up tight inside. Who couldn't say the same?
"What I will tell you, John, is I have spent much of my time abroad. I became a doctor and after surgical residency became trauma surgeon. I tried to help, but after working so long in the company death I decided it was fine time to acknowledge the old bastard in my life and became a coroner here in States."
She left the statement linger as she went back to enjoying her scotch on the rocks and cigarette, half expecting John to get up and walk out of the barroom, Hela wouldn't have tried to stop him