Not wanting to take up more of his time, you merely thank him for the directions and quickly make your way to the end of the sidewalk. The trio live in a lovely little blue townhouse on one side of the cul-de-sac at the end of the street. Certainly more inviting than any of the buildings you've ever been in.
You've had a stressful enough day in town and you're still not entirely looking forward to what's coming next, but you're prepared. You know you've got plenty of places to hide and wander and be by yourself if you need to. Entire forests worth, perhaps. That's not to say your mind isn't racing for what's to come, hardly. You can only imagine Sebastian shouting himself hoarse at you—or worse. You don't suppose he still has that revolver, does he?
You stare the house down for a solid ten minutes, waiting for the initial panic to subside. It's really happening. What you've come all this way for—it's really happening.
...And nothing can stop you now. No matter what, at least you came here. At least you found her. At least you tried. You're not much, if you're anything, but you tried. And goddamn if that's not worth something in this world.
You approach the house, stepping towards the walkway, shoving yourself through the anxiety as much as you possibly can. By the time you're past the mailbox, you can just about see a TV inside the big projection window. Someone has to be home. And you're about to talk to them.
When you're ready.