Jo Thueson as Jill Valentine

As soon as they stepped outside, they immediately felt a fresh and cold breeze outside the threshold. The first rays of the sun were burning on the horizon, painting the sky in a pink hue. This morning was not like the others, it seemed unusual, even magical.

Jerome walked beside Delia, feeling a strange sense of emptiness and expectation at the same time. Everything that had happened seemed like a dream, and now, as they stood on the threshold of the unknown, a new, mysterious world was opening up before them.

"Aren't you afraid?" Jerome asked, looking at her.

"No," Delia replied, her voice calm and confident. "We can handle anything together. You said you'd be with me until the end."

He smiled, although inside everything was not so simple. Jerome did not yet understand the full seriousness of the situation, but he knew for sure that he would not let it go. No matter what was ahead, he was ready to go through this.

The woman with the suitcase opened the car door and they got in. The noise of the engine, the rapid movement of the car, all these moments merged into one stream. Jerome looked at Delia, who was sitting next to him, her face was serious, but her eyes were confident.

As the car moved smoothly and evenly along the highway, Jerome stole a glance at the back of the female agent's head. Her bob hair did not move, as if each hair was immobilized. She had not spoken a word since she had sat behind the wheel, and her absolute calm seemed even more mysterious to Jerome.

"You know," he said quietly, leaning toward Delia, "this is all... a little weird. Like some movie. Going somewhere with a secret agent... Is this even normal?"

Delia turned to him and smiled her signature enigmatic smile.

"What is "normal", Jerome? Sometimes you just have to trust what's happening."

"Yeah, but..." He lowered his voice, even though the car was quiet. "Do you even know who she is? What's her name?"

"Her name is Jo Thueson," Delia answered calmly. "She works with my dad. Well, with his friend who works for the CIA.

"She's strange," Jerome muttered, still looking at the woman behind the wheel. "Why is she silent? Why does she speak different languages?"

Delia looked at him thoughtfully.

"Maybe she just thinks it's safer. You saw the way she talked to my parents. Everything was businesslike. I think she's just a professional."

Jerome wanted to answer something, but he was distracted by the voice of Jo Thueson herself, which rang out unexpectedly loudly:

"We're almost there. The port is ahead."

Jerome jumped up in his seat as if he had been caught in the act. He stared at Jo, trying to see if she had noticed their conversation. The woman seemed oblivious, her focus entirely on the road.

"Look, Jerome," Delia said, trying to get his attention back, "you decided to come. That means you're part of this story, too. Just relax, okay?"

"Easy to say," he muttered, looking out the window. In the distance, huge cranes and ships were already visible, silhouetted against the morning sky. "But do you know exactly why we're here? You're not kidding about a secret mission, are you?"

Delia shrugged slightly.

"Well... they explained to me that it wasn't exactly a task. More like an important mission."

"An important mission? For an eight-year-old girl?" he asked incredulously.

Delia laughed, but there was something serious in her eyes.

"Sometimes even eight-year-old girls can do things that adults can't. You said yourself that I was special, right?"

Jerome blushed.

"Well, I meant it a little... differently."

"But you were right," Delia said softly. "Just trust me."

The car stopped. Jo Thueson got out first and walked around the car to open the door for the children.

"Let's get out. The liner is already waiting," she said in a flat, cold voice.

Jerome and Delia climbed out. In front of them towered a huge snow-white liner, sparkling in the sun. People with suitcases were scurrying back and forth, and it was hard to believe that this scene was part of some secret mission. Jerome sighed, looking at all this magnificence.

"Well, Jerome?" Delia asked quietly, looking at him. "Are you with me?"

He looked at her, then at the liner. Fear, uncertainty, and the desire to protect her mixed into one strange emotion.

"Of course, with you," he finally said. "Whatever it is."

Jo, Delia and Jerome stopped at a small restaurant by the port to while away the time before boarding. A soft ringing of a bell on the door announced their entry, and a friendly waiter showed them to a table by the window, overlooking the sparkling water and the majestic liner.

Jo sat down first, taking a seat that overlooked the entrance and most of the room. Delia sat opposite her, leaning her elbows on the table and instantly taking an interest in the brightly colored nautical flags outside the window. Jerome carefully lowered himself into the chair next to his sister, trying to look calm, though he still felt a little uneasy in Jo's presence.

"Here is your menu, madam," said the waiter, carefully placing it in front of Jo. "Enjoy your meal."

Jo nodded politely and unfolded the menu. Her face remained impassive, but Jerome noticed the corner of her mouth twitch slightly. As she began reading the list of dishes, her head began to shake slightly from side to side, as if in response to an internal monologue.

"Something wrong?" Delia asked, leaning across the table and trying to peer at the menu. "Do they only have fish?"

"No," Jo said after a pause. "But their choice is... highly questionable."

"Oh, come on," Delia sighed. "You're not going to eat anything supernatural. Just order a pizza or something."

Jo looked up from the menu and looked at Delia appraisingly, her expression serious but her eyes gleaming with something like tired tolerance. Delia just shrugged and Jerome laughed.