The streets of London were bare, not a soul in sight. The only sound that could be heard was that of the rain beating upon the barren streets, the same rain that was causing Evangeline's hair to stick against her face as she walked. Two milk buckets in hand, she made her way back home, trying not to spill the milk but at the same time trying to retreat from the rain. The sky above her churned gray and black as she slowly made her way up the back steps to her house, aiming to not fall from the slick wetness.

She set the milk buckets down to open the door, and then made her way inside. She let out a sigh of relief, swept the hair from her face and removed her soaked shoes to prevent muddy tracks. Her house was warm and she took comfort in the fact that such a dreary place made her feel that way, yet at the same time she couldn't help but notice the dismal feeling in the pit of her stomach as she looked around the place. It was very plain, and even though she had lived in that house for over three years, it still surprised her how simple life was now.

As she passed through the house, Evangeline heard voices coming from her father's study down the hall. That was quite unusual seeing as they never had visitors, all the people they knew no longer wished to know them. Who would be here? She saw her mother, who was sitting in the parlor and sewing. Lauraine Mckenna was breathtakingly beautiful, even as an older woman who in all fairness wasn't even considered old. Every person Evangeline had ever met told her that she looked exactly like her mother. She didn't dare to think so, they really were nothing alike, yet she heard repeatedly the same; she was as alluring and as radiant as her mother, even at the age of 16.

"Who is with Father?" She inquired

"An old friend from your father's merchant days, I wouldn't interrupt." Her mother said softly, her eyes focused on her sewing

Henry McKenna, a few years back, had given up his business as a merchant sailor due to the lack of funds required to keep his ship and crew, ever since then his family had been struggling to survive. Many changes had been made to accommodate the fact that they no longer had money, they sold their home and downsized immensely. Life was noticeably different. They had lived in the better part of London, Evangeline never had any worries, and she had everything she needed. She was always in good company, attending parties and although, by nature, she was extremely shy, she loved to at least try and socialize.

Evangeline nodded to acknowledge her mother, and remembered that her clothes were still wet from the rain. She decided to change into something more comfortable. As she passed by her father's study, she noticed the door was slightly ajar; she stayed far away enough so that no one would see her, and she listened carefully. She was not one to pry, but it was terribly unusual for father to have a guest.

"My boy, you've done well with yourself, I suppose. You have gone a long way since you worked for me." Her father said

"Thank you sir, I've tried." Another voice came, a much younger, yet rugged and deeper one.

"Although I dare say I don't agree with the path you have chosen, such a nasty business; piracy."

Evangeline leaned in a bit closer, worry showing itself in the form of lines on her forehead as she strained to hear.

"I have my reasons for going the way I did, Mr. McKenna."

"Well, Jack my boy, regardless of the illegality of the situation; you are always welcome into my house. How long are you saying in London?"

"Only a few days, in fact, I wasn't even plannin' on staying until I remembered that you lived here sir, and I thought of paying you a visit, for old time's sake."

Evangeline peeked inside the room; she saw her father's face behind his desk, his thin mustache below his nose, his brown eyes focused on the man in front of him as he spoke. And she saw the other man, the back of his head, a head full of dreadlocks and a red bandana. He slouched, she thought, in his chair as though he were quite comfortable in the fact that he was what he was. Had her father said he was a pirate, or was in business with pirates? That she didn't know, but when her father's eyes turned towards the door, she quickly moved away, although she had already been caught spying.

"Evangeline, come here child." Her father said

She closed her eyes and let out a disappointed sigh. She opened the door and, still wet, smiled sheepishly at her father. He chuckled a bit and the guest turned around in his seat to see. He smiled slightly, the corner of his lip elevated. When her father motioned for her to come fully into the room, she obeyed.

"What have I told you about listening in on others' conversations?" He said

"I'm sorry father, it was rude of me."

"It's quite alright."

She turned slightly to look at the man again, who seemed to be amused at the fact that she had just been reprimanded. He looked different from the men she saw around London. He must have fancied himself different from most men.

"Darling, this is Jack, he was part of my crew a few years back. And this is my daughter, Evangeline." Her father said, introducing them.

"Hello." She said, shyly

"I forgot you had a girl." Jack said, nodding his head to Evangeline

"Yes, well, run along Geline. Say, Jack, might I invite you to dinner? My wife is an excellent cook; I dare say you won't be disappointed." Her father said

Jack thought about it for a second, and then shrugged his shoulders and nodded his head.

"Geline, do tell your mother that we will be having a guest for supper. And for God's sake, child, change out of those dreadfully wet clothes."

"Yes father." She said

She was making her way towards the door when she heard, "Nice to meet you Evangeline." She turned her head to shyly look back and then shut the door. He seemed to be harmless enough, she thought, and if her father had enough sense to have him in their home then she had nothing to worry about. She saw her mother in the exact same spot as she had left her, sitting and gazing at her sewing.

"Mother, we are having a guest for dinner, the man who is with father." She said, spooking her mother and making her jump a bit.

"Gracious child, you are so quiet, you frightened me. A guest, for dinner? Lord, how long has it been since we have had someone stay for supper? Alright, darling, tell your father that that is quite alright." Her mother said standing and making her way into the kitchen.

Evangeline did not want to go back to her father's study, but she hastily obeyed her mother. She stood in front of the door, looking down at her still wet clothes and sighed before softly knocking.

"Yes, come in." She heard her father say

She opened the door, peeked her head in and her father raised an eyebrow quizzically, waiting. Jack looked at her too, nonchalantly but as if he had been interrupted by her knocking.

"My mother said she would love to have you for supper Mr…." she trailed off, not knowing the man's last name, and she mentally kicked herself for phrasing her sentence the way she did. Her mother would love to have him for supper, yes. Completely moronic.

"Eh, Sparrow, luv. Captain Jack Sparrow, and tell your mother thank you." He said, moving his hands slightly as he talked and emphasizing the Captain in his name

She nodded her head, and shut the door. No, she would not tell her mother 'thank you'. Perhaps later, for she desperately needed to change into something dry. She moved down the hall, a bit further, and entered her room. It was small compared to what she used to sleep in, but in all truthfulness, she couldn't care less. It did not take much to make Evangeline happy. Whether she was rich or poor, it didn't matter at all because she didn't need a lot. She opened her bureau and inspected what little dresses she had left, again, not that it bothered her any.

She removed the wet clothes and let them fall into a mess at her feet, she glimpsed at the mirror, at her dark curls that were now flat against her face. Evangeline wiped the strands from her eyes and then let her hair fall down. She picked the blue dress, her delicate fingers fastening the buttons, and when she was fully dressed, she still did not look presentable. She sighed, oh well; it was not as if she needed to truly impress anyone. Captain Sparrow certainly didn't care, by the way he dressed, although it was quite entertaining and silly, and he did seem to pull it off. Perhaps he wouldn't even notice.