After talking to Sinthia, Henry had gone back to staring at the stars. He was still still trying to decide if he should leave and go find his father who had the room number for. Of course, part of him wanted to but at the same time, considering everything that had happened in the past year or indeed in the past twenty-four hours, he wasn't entirely sure he wanted to just turn up on the man's proverbial doorstep. He wasn't the son the man wanted after all.

A voice brought the boy out of his thoughts and he turned to it's source, shrugging in answer. He didn't want to lie and say he was okay and he couldn't say no without being rude. So a shrug was his best bet. How could he be okay after being pulled from his home without warning and thrust into the future? Even if his father was here, that didn't make it any better. And whatever magic had been cast to make this happen must have an enormous price to go along with it, something Henry didn't want to pay.