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𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐋𝐎𝐆𝐔𝐄 ; what will come 𝚊𝚞𝚐𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝟸𝟺, 𝟸𝟶𝟶𝟿
"𝕷𝖊𝖙'𝖘 𝕾𝖙𝖆𝖗𝖙 with the easy stuff. what is your name, sweetheart?"
she had to be shitting me. i rolled my eyes and tucked my dark curly hair behind my ear with my free hand. "my name is lucy de loughrey." my voice was coated in annoyance and sarcasm.
"middle name?" she asked, tapping her pen on the metal table. it was dead silent in the small interrogation room.
"delphine." i said passively. the hand-cuffs around my left hand had started to grate into my skin, forming red marks and i bleeding from somewhere. i tried not to show weakness, keep my face even. she didn't need to know anything besides what i was willing to tell her.
"lucy delphine de loughrey. how pretty," she said, giving me a toothy grin. her lipstick was smeared across her front teeth. her hair was done up, but had been done in a rush. i would know that look anywhere. her clothes were expensive, but put on her person quite messily. i couldn't see her shoes, but i imagined they were flats or sneakers, slipped on at a moment's notice. they want information from me. right now. how do i know this? i am a profiler, after all.
"how old are you, lucy?" the lady asked. i took notice of the fact that she avoided direct eye contact except when absolutely necessary. she isn't used to this. she is the only woman on her team, less experienced in interrogation than her male counterparts. maybe she usually works the desk. they obviously thought i would talk if it was to a woman. they've done their research on me. great.
"what's your name?" i asked her, countering all her dull questions. i sat back in my metal chair, before remembering my left wrist in all of its pain. i winced as i moved, but did not dare move back or show it on my face how much pain i was in. would it have killed them to put it on me any looser? i'm not going anywhere. she didn't answer for a while. "i asked you what your name was, lady."
"special agent henrietta long," she said curtly, flashing me her lipstick-stained teeth again. she looked down at her paper as if she was going to make a note on her little paper, but she didn't, just kept tapping her pen. tap tap tap. what would that note say? subject shows obvious signs of smartass?
"but you, lucy, are an agent for the bureau too. behavioral analysis unit. are you profiling me right now?" she grinned, pleased with herself. she started to stand, crossing her arms. she was wearing a yellow short-sleeved shirt that practically glowed in the green-tinted fluorescents of the room. i glanced towards the panel of one-way glass. i couldn't see anything, but i knew emily, morgan, rossi, and maybe even penelope, were right across it, cheering me on. they trusted me, and i wasn't about to let them down. i had to keep my guard up. not let anything too valuable slip. no matter what this clown said.
