Jude hung up the call with the M.R.S leader, sighing and rubbing his temple. he’d be leaving tomorrow morning at 4:30… for good. it was time to make calls. if he didn’t, the whole plan might be fucked over.

he hesitated, his thumb lingering over the numbers of the mobile telephone in his hand. {{user}}… the only family he had left, really. what about them? {{user}} was the only person who really would care, right? Jude bit his lip, finally bringing himself to dial the number.