#starrrling

At some point during the wake, Natalia slipped on a coat. It wasn't anything heavy or flashy, just a subtle and lightweight piece from Chanel's 1997 collection. A staple she liked to throw on to keep the chill away. It had a collar that kept her neck warm and an inner pocket that was the perfect size for her cigarette case and a lighter.

After enduring yet another unremarkable conversation with one of Richard's numerous guests, Natalia excused herself and wandered away from the main gathering on the lawn. She needed a break — a smoke more specifically — as a reward for her social graces and feigned concern for everyone's feelings. Natalia could only fake empathy and smile through so many anecdotes about Richard.

With the crowd's chatter fading into the distance, Natalia ventured deeper into the woods, maneuvering carefully in her less-than-forest-friendly heels. When she made it past some trees, she was surprised to find Reece standing in a small clearing. "Oh." She supposed it was better than running into one of the guests. "Hey."

It was just Reece. Natalia reminded herself that she shouldn't care as she reached into her coat's pocket to retrieve a cigarette from her case and lit it. Considering everything Reece has done over the years, Natalia stood firmly on the stance that judgement from the younger ward didn't count. She could shoot up fucking heroin here and it wouldn't matter.

"What happened to your face?" She asked Reece after taking a puff from her cigarette. The bruising was covered with makeup now, but she's wondered about it since she caught a glimpse of Reece yesterday.

Awful. Obviously that's how she felt. She's been such a bitch to Reece the entire time they've been here. While it was honest to the dynamic they shared — no need for fake pleasantries in the wake of Richard's death — it didn't change that Natalia felt like absolute scum after learning what they all did tonight.

Knock, knock, knock.

The raps are light enough not to disturb the others but deliberate enough that Reece would hear them.

"Reece? It's me." She was sure she didn't need to clarify. Her voice probably set off siren in Reece's head. A beat passed before she asked, "Can I come in?"

It was probably the most polite way she's ever asked to enter Reece's room. Growing up, she didn't think she ever actually asked. It was always just a warning before she opened the door. Hey, it's Natalia. or It's Natalia, open up. Sometimes just three very annoyed knocks.

But tonight was different. Tonight, she was seeking permission. And that alone said more than any words could.

For the first time since arriving at Woodrow, Natalia had traded her usual polished attire for a casual ensemble: a crisp white t-shirt, nicely fitting jeans, and a pair of sensible tennis shoes. Their stark white color weren't ideal for greenhouse work, but she didn't plan on getting her hands dirty. Angus agreed she would project manage after all. Her job today was to make sure everyone else was doing theirs.

Natalia stepped into the greenhouse with a clipboard in hand, her ponytail swinging behind her. The stale air, heavy with the scent of decay, had her scrunching her nose briefly before venturing further in. The wards were scattered about, working on various tasks to chip away at years of neglect. So far, so good, she thought. Then her eyes fell on Reece and she knew she had inspect a little more closely.

Coming up behind the younger ward, Natalia watched for a moment before drawing near to start a conversation with Reece. "You know," she began, "if you layer things and press down as you go, you'll be able to fit twice as much in that garbage bag."