Chapter One: Mannequins

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Harleigh swallowed, hands shaking. She almost couldn't bring herself to open the door to the enormous building. People zipped past her, up and down, like blurry cars on the interstate. Some of them were so busy they didn't even bother to stare at her.

Harleigh tried to avoid her reflection in the glass door as she opened it. She moved robotically through the lobby and to the desk.

"I'm Harleigh Lynn?" she murmured to the receptionist at the desk.

He was a thin blond man wearing a uniform, but he looked like he'd rather be wearing sweatpants and watching football. Harleigh noticed a ring on one finger and a single picture frame that was turned away from her.

He's married, she thought.

"Yes...the pink hair gives it away huh?" the man remarked pleasantly.

Harleigh knew it wasn't the pink hair that gave it away. The side of her face began to tingle, and she resisted the urge to finger it.

"Yeah," was all she could manage.

She didn't know if he heard her or if her words had been lost in the official bustle around her

"Alright. Paperwork is filed, screening is complete... Welcome to the New York Police Department. You're going to be fifth floor, room 513. Ask for Pereira."

Harleigh nodded her thanks and headed for the stairs, clutching her purse and trying to remain inconspicuous. Several officers watched her out of the corners of their eyes, looking away when she turned her head towards them. The sick feeling in her stomach got worse, but she clenched her teeth and pulled her black knit hat lower over her head.

She didn't even have to look down at the tattoo on her right hand to remember the words that kept her going.

"Can't equals won't," she muttered, stepping hard on each stair.

The footsteps sounded out a rhythm: Can't equals won't. Can't equals won't.

When Harleigh reached the fifth floor, several people got off the elevator and strode busily down the hallway, shuffling files and disappearing indoors. Harleigh looked down at her black boots and blew out a breath. She scanned the doorways until she saw the number, written in gold letters. But the letters weren't quite as shiny as the ones on the other doors.

Pareira's been here a long time. He's probably older. Probably has a system. Probably doesn't like change. Probably won't like me.

Harleigh pushed the door open and found herself in a bright office space, painted yellow. A flowerpot sat on the windowsill, a beautiful fiery red rug lay in front of the desk, and a couch sat in a small opening in front of the window.

The girl at the desk had long black hair, tied back in a ponytail. Her earrings were silver, her complexion pleasant, and she wore a pink sweater.

Doesn't use her entire arm at this job, only her hands. Business-minded, not easily distracted. Ambitious.

"Hi, I'm Harleigh Lynn," Harleigh said as the girl made eye contact.

Not afraid of me. Not afraid to speak her mind. Has control over facial expressions and emotions. Didn't react to the piercings or the scars, Harleigh observed.

"Ms. Lynn. The new detective! Nice to meet you," the girl stood and offered a hand.

Harleigh shook it, noting the manicure.

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