𝘾𝙝𝙖𝙥𝙩𝙚𝙧 𝙛𝙤𝙪𝙧𝙩𝙚𝙚𝙣: 𝙧𝙚𝙨𝙚𝙖𝙧𝙘𝙝 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙩𝙖𝙡𝙠𝙨

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└➤ research and talks。✑ ───┐

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└➤ research and talks。✑ ───┐

"ZIGGY, CAN I ASK YOU A QUESTION?" George's voice drew Ziggy out of her thoughts, the brunette looking up from the article about the house they were going to tonight, to look at George.

"What's up?" she asked, proud of managing to keep herself together so well, even though she did feel like a wound coil ready to spring apart any moment.

A rather nasty side effect of encountering her mother. She used to get like this back when she liked with her mother, always full of negative emotions, always on the verge of either crying or punching someone which wasn't good when you worked in their field.

George looked hesitant to ask, which was odd since George never hesitated. He knew what to do and when to do it, and he was always blunt. "Your mum called you Elizabeth but you call yourself Ziggy. Is there a reason?"

She slowly nodded. Of course, George would be curious about that. He was always curious about everything, it was part of what was lovable about him. "Yes," she answered honestly, ignoring the concerned looks from Lucy. "When Luce and I worked at Jacobs, I grew to hate my mum. She treated me awfully and I never realized until our friend Norrie told me. And then I grew to hate my name. It didn't feel like me, it felt like my mother. So, one day, I decided to change it. Norrie suggested Ziggy and it stuck," she explained.

"Well, Ziggy fits you better," Lockwood spoke up.

Ziggy glanced at him, giving him a small smile. "Thanks."

"Can I ask another question?" George blurted, grabbing Ziggy's attention again.

"Go ahead," she said.

"Why did you run away from home? I'm glad that you and Lucy did but what made you both decide to run away?" he asked.

Ziggy sucked in a sharp breath, looking at Lucy who was staring down at the table, losing herself in thought.

"We had a case that went badly. Our friends died with one exception, Norrie was ghostlocked. Lucy somehow got the blame for it which is fucked," Ziggy started, fiddling with the end of the table cloth. "And when I went home, my mother was furious. It was the worst fight we ever had. I still have a scar on my wrist from it. I didn't recognize my mother in that moment so I knew I couldn't stay. And then in the morning, Luce was in my room, asking me to leave with her and here we are."

"Wait, you didn't mention a fight," Lucy spoke up, drawing Ziggy's attention to her.

Ziggy frowned. "It wasn't a big deal, we always fought when I went home and you were struggling with your mom, I didn't want to add more to your plate," she explained.

Lucy glared at Ziggy, crossing her arms. "Ziggy, listen to me. I do not care what I have going on, you can come to me about your problems, no matter how small or silly they may seem to you."

Ziggy shot the tawny haired girl a smile, rolling her eyes. "Alright, fine. From here on now, I will come to you about my problems, okay?" She said.

Lucy stared at her for a moment before she nodded. "Yeah, okay," she mumbled.

"I got it," Lockwood interrupted, making all three heads turn to look at him. He was standing up at the table, a newspaper spread out in front of him. "Right here, "Trudy Lumen dies at 89 of a stroke in her armchair, authorities say there's nothing to worry about." The address is the same as your mother's."

"Huh, I wonder if this Trudy is our visitor, your mother did say the visitor wasn't violent, it just floated about," Lucy spoke up, glancing at Ziggy.

Ziggy leaned back in her chair, crossing her arms. "Only one way to find out."

Author's note:

Hi! I'm back from the dead lol. Only one more chapter to go before this book is officially over!! So exciting. However, I was rereading the book and decided I didn't really care for the writing and felt that Ziggy didn't really seem to have much of a personality so I'm currently rewriting it. Would those who have followed along prefer me to create a new book for the rewrite and leave this alone? Or should I just overwrite this book? Let me know in the comments!

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