#x78091

she'd had her eye on this target for weeks, months even. her process hadn't failed her yet, spending day in and day out learning his routine, assessing as much about him as she could before she'd opt to make her move. it had to be timed to perfection, especially if she was to get away with it. but she'd done that plenty of times before to. and tonight was meant to be the night –– her alibi was already lined up and ready to go. she just had to make sure she got this part right.

she always had done her best work at night. she felt protected by the darkness, invincible almost. she'd learned early on that if you were going to keep killing, you had to be confident in it. where there was doubt, there were mistakes.

the blonde tiptoed carefully through the home of her target –– he was set to be here alone, as he had been every other time she'd observed him. but there was a noise. more than one, that she wasn't anticipating. a change in routine could ruin everything –– possibly send her straight to jail, which would unravel her whole existence. no, it couldn't be. surely.

one more step, and florence's eyes fell upon a sight that she'd never have been able to prepare for, not in a million years. someone had beaten her to it.

"shit." she cursed quietly under her breath, brain already racing with how she was to get out, flee the scene, and never have to revisit again. for once, she was innocent. those thoughts were interrupted as she turned, only for her gaze to meet that of the person who'd done her job for her. she had no choice –– she had to run.

"what's up with your face?" question cut through the sudden quiet of the room as others had begun to filter out, preoccupied with their own lives, their own priorities. erin had noticed it though –– something not quite right about mark –– and she was using this brief moment of reprieve to find out what.

"you've had that look on it all day." she clarified, though added, "unless you've had some sort of botched facelift, in which case i'll pretend i never asked until you get it sorted." a light addition, an excuse to wave the question off with ease if that was what he'd prefer.

elia takes a deep breath and steps back outside with a new tray, forced smile on her lips. the night air feels fresh, cool on her face. she has barely turned the corner when she almost bumps into a couple. she opens her mouth to ask canapés ? when she is struck dumb. it's mark, in the tux she laid out for him earlier, a gorgeous dark-haired, petite woman in a satin dress perched on his arm. she feels a range of emotions: jealousy, anger, betrayal, hurt. it takes a second before realization kicks in. it's not a date. it's a mission. " um. canapés ? "

“nah, i shouldn’t,” but that red light’s flared out like spilled ink and every glimpse of the sun feels like a knife to her grey matter. maaaybe she overdid it on the malbec last night.

“ ... you don’t mind?”

sliding her sunnies off the crown of her head, joan takes the pill and washes it down with the mcdonald’s oj warming in the center console. and because she’d rather not talk about her obvious hangover:

“what about you?”

“how's, uh, everything?”

“  maybe so . but since you're already here , might as well let me check you out .  ”  a pause , just a beat for it to sink in that his word choice could have been 𝘼 𝙇𝙄𝙏𝙏𝙇𝙀 𝘽𝙄𝙏 𝘽𝙀𝙏𝙏𝙀𝙍 considering the man is sitting on the gurney naked from the belt up . except for the sling , but that's asking an awful lot of a couple strips of fabric .  “  your shoulder , check out your shoulder .  ”

saved it .

maybe he shouldn't have agreed to stick around after his shift was over . nothing 𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐂𝐔𝐏 𝐎𝐅 𝐂𝐎𝐅𝐅𝐄𝐄 won't cure .  “  nurse said you came down hard on your arm before it started hurting . that right ?  ”