Mirrored Exile (HS)

thirty one

chapter thirty one - you and me
(play song at the !!)

Lucy Caddel

I'm in the backseat of Liam's car. Liam driving with Harry in the front passenger seat and Zayn on my left. Harry seems focused on the plan, going over the details with Zayn and Liam.

As Harry's explaining, I notice the cut just above his eyebrow again. Its tiny bandage is back on, covering the wound from the incident. The urge to trace it with my finger, but tucking that thought away.

I spot the FBI badge shoved in his pocket with his gun. It makes the reality hit when I see it. This art show had now become Falcon's little game, we had no exact idea what they had planned to happen but we had to be on watch the entire time. Harry finishes explaining the plan and turns to look at me. His gaze is intense, but there's a hint of concern in his eyes. I can tell something's on his mind, but he doesn't say anything. Instead, he turns back to face the front of the car.

The car ride is now just filled with tension and anticipation. The city lights, flash by in a blur while the deafening silence of the car continues. I can feel the weight of overthinking and all the worst possibilities piling up, bearing down on me.

As we approach the art show, the building looms ahead, a symbol of the challenge we're about to face. Liam pulls the car up to the curb, and the four of us step out, adjusting our attire.

Liam locks the car and we all make our way to the entrance. I walk alongside Harry. Liam and Zayn are further behind so they don't look like they're with us. I clutch at my necklace anxiously. We reach the large hall with an archway for the front opening. The architecture is eye-catching as the lights enhance its features.

A familiar face greets us at the reception. "Welcome," Samantha smiles dramatically, I still didn't trust her one bit, "I was wondering when you two would show up!"

As I approach Samantha, she extends her hand for a polite handshake. Her eyes flicker between me and Harry, a slight smirk playing on her lips. I can't help but feel a twinge of unease in my stomach. I shake her hand, trying to maintain a neutral expression. "Good evening, Samantha."

"Evening, Agent Dateleo." Harry bowed his head slightly at her. She had a salmon-colored pink dress on with her hair in a braided updo. Her mask was tucked under her arm with her handbag.

Her gaze lingers on me for a moment before she turns to Harry. "I hope you're both ready for a fantastic evening," she says, her voice dripping with false sincerity.

Harry nods curtly, his eyes scanning the room. "We're always ready," he replies.

"Of course you are, right this way. I've already checked you in and assigned your seats in the hall." Her voice fails to hide the excitement. We both slip on our masks, realizing Arthur made the colors on them match too.

Samantha leads us through the ornate archway and into the main hall. My eyes widen as I take in the grandeur of the space. The ceilings are high, designed with intricate frescoes, and the walls are lined with other different styled artworks. Some paintings, some sculptures, but none of them are my swan which we're looking for. Yet.

We follow Samantha closely, my senses on high alert as I scan the room for any signs of the stolen swan. The crowd is a mix of many people, all dressed to the nines and sipping champagne. I wondered which ones were a part of the FBI and which ones were just upper-class tagalongs pretending to know about art. Or even worse, Falcon.

Samantha guides me and Harry through the throngs of people, eventually stopping in front of a table adorned with name cards. "Here are your seats," she says, gesturing to two chairs in the middle of the table. I take a deep breath and make my way to my seat, careful not to make eye contact with anyone around me.