Waltz shuffled his way into the kitchen, he flicked on the kettle before leaning back against the kitchen bench, he stared out the kitchen window as he watched the traffic pass by. He didn't hold any hope for his soon-to-be ex-wife to drive back to him.

He jumped a little as the kettle flicked itself off. He reached for his mug on the edge of the drying rack before preparing himself his morning coffee.

"She cowered behind the register as she heard his voice." Waltz spoke out loud in between sips of his coffee "She could feel her heart race." He began walk towards his home office "You can't hide forever. He demand." Waltz placed his coffee down on his desk before reaching for an empty notebook lying flat on the bookshelf, he flicked open to the first page before picking up his pen from the desk "She stayed silent." Waltz began to write the words he had spoken out loud "Bullets began to fly through the glass windows, hitting almost everything in its path. Antique...Antique." He paused "Antique.." He paused again.

Waltz sighed as he held his notebook, he looked down at his words "Fuck." He breathed before sitting down behind his desk.

He placed down his notebook and pen, he reached for his coffee mug before taking a sip "Antique what? Who is he? Why is she scared of him?" He stared out into the empty space of his home office "Is it the beginning or the end? Middle? Yes. The middle. No. Beginning." He argued with himself "Can't be the end. The end has to be different. Middle seems too late. It has to be the beginning." He began to reason with himself.

Waltz looked down at his handwritten words "Who?"

He reached towards his printer and pulled out a piece of paper from the paper tray before laying it flat on his laptop. He picked up his pen before letting his thoughts fly through the ink.

Waltz watched as words and scribbles covered the A4 sized piece of paper.

He stopped as he looked up at the empty space in his home office "What's her name? What does she do?" He hadn't realised what he had written.

A voluptuous woman with black hair, a mother. A grandmother. Old but young. Dangerous, smart. Ambrosia.

Waltz smiled a little as he looked up at the empty space in front of him "Ambrosia, a woman who hates to be tricked. She does what she can to protect her small family, her daughter sixteen year old; Rose, her granddaughter two month old..." Waltz paused, he couldn't think of a baby name. "Violet? No. Ivy? No. Rose, already did that."

"Flower girls, She's a little sweet baby. Quiet little thing." A female voice rang in his head.

Waltz dropped his eyes to the piece of paper; it was almost as if the baby's name had appeared out of nowhere Poppy. His heart ached at that name "NO!" He huffed up to his feet "Poppy can't be involved in this one. She can't." He breathed as if he was arguing with someone in front of him "She hates me."

"She's only a baby." The female voice purred in his ear again.

"She's my baby." His voice struggled to stay calm "My baby who hates me." He crumbled down in his chair before closing his eyes "Poppy, forgive me. Please." He breathed as he opened his eyes.

Waltz pushed aside the paper and his pen as he sat alone in his home office.