Chéri shrugged “You didn’t ask me who I was, or my name, you asked me if I was a lost tourist and/or a child, which I am not. Then you decided it was absurd for me to speak French and that the seashell made no sense.” Chéri looked down and showed briefly what they had collected, with a triumphant grin. The orange, blue and yellow shells glimmered in the sun and they looked beautiful, clustered inside the apron. “Aren’t they beautiful?” They asked, before looking up again, tying their apron “as for the rest, I told you. The place is small. Worst case scenario, I will have to go around once or twice more. I am in no hurry and getting to know the place isn’t bad.”

“If you are worried I might hurt someone, search me. You will find no weapon on me.” Chéri shrugged, lifting their arms, waiting for a reaction “As far as the rest… I am literally walking barefoot in the ocean, why would anyone think they can make something off of kidnapping me?” Trafficking was a very solid idea, actually, but Chéri wasn’t going to suggest that.