Both Frank and Casey walked over to Alistair and sat down, Casey took Alistairs hand in hers and gave it a little squeeze. This was the man who could tell her father that they had to stay, the one who could help find Frank's creator. What could a man like that possibly want from a small group of children? Children, the word sounded so wrong in her ears. She didn't see herself as a child, sure some of the things she did were kind of childish. And she had little patience, but that could be said about many adults also. She was 16, but so was Al and no one would consider him a child.<br/>"What is it that you want from us Mr. Flute?"