SEQUENTIAL ━ Connor // RK800 ✔️

twenty-one ━ in too deep

Her cruelly factual conclusion was joined in by the firm pull on the door from the outside. Mia's time has all but run out.

The pull swiftly turned into a desperate knock. "Miss O'Connor?" The gallerist called from the other side of the door. "Is everything alright?"

In the process of turning around, Mia had, without meaning to, returned her attention onto the low coffee table and that stack of magazines on its corner. One more minute, she decided then she'd need to check that possible evidence too, the one she had set out to analyze before getting distracted by what turned out to be some obsessive puzzle put together by a processing unit too far gone in malfunctions to make any sense at all.

However, in order to get that one more minute, she knew she had to lie and that had never been her strong suit.

"The door just closed and I've been trying to get it to open, but it won't budge," Mia called back, not bothering to put the three paintings back in their places and simply rushing to take a hold of the first magazine from the stack.

Date, she reasoned. Rory must have spent at least a day as a deviant here before killing Lucien. With that in mind, she completely dismissed that top of the pile magazine and took the second one instead.

Immediately, one of the headlines on the cover's right panel caught her attention: The Silver Spoon, local nightclub — the central hub of student community.

"Silver Spoon," Mia muttered.

"I will call maintenence," the gallerist's voice interrupted her trail of thought, successfully reminding her of the urgency of the situation.

"No," Mia shouted back, getting up with magazine in hand to look at the paintings again. "There's no need. I think I almost got it open. It's just a little stuck. Give me a second."

Silver, she looked at the distorted portrait, then at the one where the absence of a single utensil was central. Spoon. Finally, she looked at the industrials stairs in the third picture and made the connection: she's seen those stairs before, while partying out with Lucien in university, at The Silver Spoon.

"Got ya," Mia smiled, tossing the magazine back onto the coffee table and immediately rushing to the door. "There it is," she got it open. "I don't know how this thing shut on its own." She had no time to celebrate her small discovery, but just that single dash of renewed hope she gained from finding anything at all in there had played a big role in meeting the gallerist with the confidence of someone who wasn't nearly as bad at lying as her. The key to hiding the obvious lies she about to spew with a smile still on her lips was to say everything so fast that the woman wouldn't have time to react, of course, so that is exactly what Mia did, passing the gallerist and barely turning around while she spoke. "Would you mind spending me the documents through email? I got a phonecall and they need me back at work urgently for another meeting. I will sign everything you need digitally and send them back to you. Thank you!"

Her gratitude had almost been entirely cut off by the door getting shut closed behind her, but she didn't linger on the front porch long enough to be able to tell if the woman was following her or not. Mia gradually turned her fast walk into a run, and it wasn't until she was in the car and safely driving away that she could exhale properly and even look behind. After seeing in the rear mirror that the gallerist didn't follow her into the street, Mia's relieved gaze momentarily dropped on the cushions of the backseat.