Sept 1947, Miami, FL
Her dark eyes moved up to the rear view mirror, a feminine hand reaching to adjust the tiny mechanism to get a better view of herself before licking at the crimson smudge on her perfect white teeth. Her eyes were full of excitement and yet the facade she put on gave away nothing of the nerves that tore at the fibers of her chest. She should've brought Jake with her to do this, he would've calmed her nerves. He was the only thing lately that made her feel better in a world full of lies and mayhem, especially with the Don being so on edge lately. She'd tried a million times to better understand what Vincent was so consumed with, but he always gave her the same answer, his accent Spaniard thick, "Patience, little one. I'll make sure that when the time is right you get brought into the thick of what I'm working on. I assure you that everything is fine."
She growled at her reflection in the mirror and swiped her tongue across her teeth again, readjusting the mirror and slipping out into the early morning coolness. Abigail grabbed her thick black coat and slipped into it, her rest of her body adorned in a tight silky black dress and the only color showing belonged to her lips and high heals. She wanted to look nice for her new guest and hoped like hell that their reintroduction to one another would be a comfort to each of them and not something awkward and sterile. She slipped the long silver key in the hole and locked her new baby, the Hotchkiss Artois not due to be offered to the public for another six months, but it paid to own the guy who makes them, or it did for her. She moved quickly from the small parking structure, people in business suits moving with intent as they raced to catch the only means of transportation to nearby cities and with a few stops downtown.
The sounds and smells of the train station reminded her that the future was upon them and America was exactly what her step-father always said it was - the land of dreams. There wasn't a place you couldn't pull yourself out of, a person you couldn't be or nuthin' one couldn't do if they simply put their mind to it in the land of opportunity and freedom. She picked up her pace a little, her red heels clicking on the concrete as a few stopped to look around at her with inquisition. Her long ravens hair was in soft curls, none ever being able to guess that she was the right hand of the most dangerous crime syndicate on the east coast, including old Frankie. He was getting old and starting to let things slide, but the Don was in his prime and stayed at the top of his game namely because of the people he surrounded himself with.
She stopped in front of the station informational booth and spoke quickly to the blushing young boy inside, "What train number is coming from New York City, love?"
He swallowed hard and looked at his paper, his little pale hand starting to shake a little. "It's uh.. it's gonna be on platform, uh, three."
She winked and thanked him before moving quickly to the platform where her little sister would soon emerge from her old world and enter into a new - the one Abby chose many, many years ago. She adjusted the small pistol at her back just beneath her coat and leaned against a cool metal pole, her eyes shifting to watch for the oncoming train and a renewed relationship she needed so desperately.