She throws her newly issued DA's office ID card, briefcase, phone and keys on the table and pauses for a long moment, surveying the bare wooden floors with a decidedly disdainful look. "If this is what this piss-hole of a town calls an penthouse, then that real estate man lied through his teeth."
Sensing something wrong, she lifts up one long trim ankle to survey the tooled red leather base of of the left six inch Louboutins "Gum?" the glower gets worse..then in a dry English accent "Well those are fucked then aren't they" muttering darkly before kicking the ruined shoe to the floor and stepping out of the other one to join it under the table, she pads barefoot to the window and frowns.
The city view is grim - instead as she closes her eyes, memories of her mother and father in a leafy Surrey village, happy and respectable, smiling faces, a comfortable contented life, education at a top university make her smile.
Then other images begin to invade and she gives one long shudder hands pressing to the temples of her forehead, fighting the reaction not to wince as her hand slides over the shorn hair.
"No " she speaks simply, allowing a long breath to emerge "I wont remember.. I wont allow anyone to know those things" and opens her eyes a defiant clench to her jaw commanding herself with determination.
Slipping off the suit jacket and pouring a long measure of Jack Daniels into a coffee mug she begins to unpack the two cases that had arrived so far, some law books, more work clothes, the usual detritus of personal items until reaching the bottom, a brown manilla file, some loose sheets of paper and photos slips from it and she picks one up staring at it for a long time before slipping it back into the folder and then sliding it into a suitable hiding spot.
Then the other case, bike leathers, a dark visored helmet, and a small leather wallet. "Good" she murmurs noticing her bike was parked waiting for her downstairs, the delivery driver having already pushed the keys through the door.
Then going to the wallet, she first, pulls out four freshly minted razor blades, each wrapped in it's own little brown paper packet and a small bag of white powder.
"Welcome to Dead End Eri" she murmurs and leans forward, using the tip of one long scarlet fingernail to scoop some of the powder out and then inhale sharply.
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