Prologue
Mid-afternoon on a Tuesday, humid, sunny, calm. Palm trees grew up from the ground like snakes being enchanted from the dry soil. A small breeze fluttered through the grass-like leaves that fanned out from the tops, a hairstyle gone wrong. The small cottage Ally had been assigned to was simple and modern, just how she liked it, the thatched roof and wooden veranda added nicely to its charm. As did the bamboo shooting up beside the front door. Ally sat on the small loveseat out the front and watched a few native birds peck skittishly at the remains of her lunch. Lagosi, ally had decided, was her favourite place in the word. It was ironic therefor that she had come here to die…