Turmoil || Owen | Open
So much had happened in such a short amount of time that Owen hadn’t really had time to wrap his head around all of it. His mind, typically so focused was adrift in a storm-tossed sea. It kept going back to the election, the poll results had come in and his camp had cheered! It had been a glorious upset, a landslide that set the tone for his incoming. He needed to speak to Laurel and the Deputy Mayor, whom she’d appointed when she’d stepped down. He also needed to appoint a Deputy Mayor for in case he should need to remove himself from the spot. A few names rolled around in his head, but he was unsure if he was sure about any of them. Gods, he was barely sure he was the right one.
When Owen had thrown his hat into the ring he had not expected to win. He was a Remington. They weren’t seen in the most favorable light a lot of the time, but still, he had won. There was so much more to this job than he’d expected and his sister... Gods, she had been so angry with him when he chose to do this, but she’d been right. He had not seen it then, but now he did. This put so much stress on his family. Granted, the only two he cared about were his wife and sister, but it put stress on them regardless. Had he made the right choice? Owen wasn’t sure.
He walked the streets, the lamp lights lighting a path he could see without them. Their light didn’t touch the paths he needed to be illuminated, though. Nothing but time would do that, he supposed. His tie hung limply in his hands and his dress shoes clicked and crunched against the gravel of the worn sidewalk. Thoughts swirled in his head like the smoke from the pendant. The murders and attacks that were going through the town... Owen knew what the cause was, even if he was loath to admit it. He needed to speak to one of the Ainsley’s. They were working these cases. He could maybe slightly say something? Point them in the right direction without pointing them? He could right this wrong... fix what he broke.
Maybe.
