You can save anyone from themselves, as long as you get to them quick enough.
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"Hazel. . .are you avoiding me?"
"Uh. . .were you waiting behind the door this whole time?"
✈︎
"Was any of it real?"
"Everything. Since the beginning."
✈︎
"You would th...
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『••✎••』
Hazel sat inside a hotel room, silently staring at the laptop screen. She should've been studying Garrett's case, looking through their files, or trying to find a way to get the Trojan horse activated from afar. Instead, the Hastings family history was staring right back at her.
The silence was interrupted as Ward entered the room, carrying a plate of food.
"Hey, you never stepped out to eat. Skye made sure I brought you some," Grant mentioned lightly as he closed the door behind himself and stepped closer to the blonde.
Hazel's uneasiness was written all over her face, making the specialist worry as he placed the plate on the nightstand. The blonde took a deep breath, words leaving her lips before he could ask.
"I looked into them," she said, eyes still focused on her laptop as her nails slightly dug into the palms of her hands. "The Hastings didn't sell the house... They were attacked, and Grayson returned to his parents and the house. Destroyed," Hazel's words were quiet and slow; in a way, as she was telling Grant about what she had found out, she was trying to process it herself.
The specialist was quiet momentarily as he acknowledged the information.
"A robbery gone wrong?" Grant asked, sitting across from the girl, who quickly shook her head in denial.
"Nothing of value was taken from the house," Hazel started quietly, looking up at the specialist. "The police found on the kitchen counter my information folder from when they fostered me. Opened up and neatly spread out. My picture was missing."
"So you are saying..."
"Whoever killed the Hastings was looking for me."
『••✎••』
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Havana, Cuba.
Something had gone right; through Cybertek's expenses and shipments, they could locate their main base. It had led them to Cuba. Now, the whole team was standing in a circle around Coulson.
