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His mother would care for him.

It was a two story cabin like home, with the basic essentials. Living room, kitchen, bathroom, and a tiny bedroom that seriously needed to be refurbished. Not only was her house rotting old and reeking of essence oil, but it was in the middle of the Bahamud desert.

Miles away from Junsen city, the only populated area close enough for her to drive to without running out of gas.

It was safe to bet that it was a normal occurrence for the house to have severe heat waves. And with a faulty air conditioning system, Dante usually had to have a desk fan nearby. And even that didn't help much.

She should have just moved underground. Though the cons were there, Dante would have been safe and undetected...and she wouldn't even need air conditioning.

Sadly it was out of the question, since with her experience as an agent she knew that underground facilities were constantly being checked by government services. Not only that but she was a nomad runaway. She was never in one area for too long, and underground homes were hard to travel to and fro.

They would have found her in a month.

Dante scratched at the bare skin that peeked beneath her skin tight camisole and stepped into the kitchen. It was half the size of her tiny bedroom and cluttered from the small old style shelves to the bloodwood counter-tops.

She honestly hated deep shades of red because staring at the color for too long made her eyes bleed. Well, not literally but it irritated her. It was one of the many reasons why she hated the house, because the walls, floor, and yes even the counters were made of bloodwood.

It was like the fates were mocking her.

Grumbling to herself, Dante brushed stray strands of hair out of her eyes as she fumbled through the cupboards. Since becoming a runaway agent she hadn't been a heavy eater, and several a time she had checked her food supply only to realize she was low on munchables.

Including now, since all she saw in her cupboards and fridge was a small bottle of fruity cocktail and a box of oatmeal. Dust seemed to be her new roomate, since it was literally everywhere. And she hated oatmeal...

So much for a yummy breakfast then.

With a scowl Dante yanked the box of raw oats out of the cabinet and fetched a small pot to boil it in. She had never been picky with her choice of food, but some of the natives of Junsen had visited their new 'neighbor' to give her welcome gifts. Which so happened to be several bags of self grown groceries and homemade 'peace' quilts.

She'd eaten her fill of yogurt and fruit and hadn't seen the need to go shopping since the town was so far and it had seemed like enough food to last a lifetime at the moment. There had been so much her fridge had been overflowing for crying out loud.

But now it was the complete opposite, and none of the natives had visited since then. Dante was pretty sure they had forgotten her. She wasn't a social butterfly after all, and despite their kindness they obviously still thought of her as a mysterious foreigner and no more.

Just the way she liked it. If a government detective did so happen to find the small and remote town of Junsen, it was unlikely the natives would mention her. Her house was a tiny dot in the distance and as far as she knew, no one had lived in it for decades. For good reason. Who in their right mind would look for her there?

Dante got her answer abruptly in the form of a loud knock on her kitchen door. The kitchen was at the very front of the house and donned one of the two only exits. Since her door had no window or peephole, Dante couldn't see who it was without opening the door.

Glancing at the rifle that hung beside coat rack, Dante took a deep breath and turned the stove heat down. She looked down at her attire. She was showing alot of skin since her camisole and boy shorts weren't exactly modest. Her robe was ratty and her curls were unkempt. But she wasn't about to go through the trouble of changing her clothes. It was too hot for that.

Sighing, Dante turned toward the door and s

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