Bloom

She went out to the haze in the morning grace

I wake up and try to make myself look like someone who the police would want to talk to. I put an illusion charm on, making my hair blonde and straight, make it seem like my piercings are gone and minimal makeup.

I feel anxiety creep in as I am outside the station. This is my least favourite part of the initial process, trying to convince the police to let me help. They're largely useless, defensive that I even suggest they would need my help. I take a deep breath and push open the door.

The linoleum floor is yellowing and peeling in corners, sun-bleached posters litter the walls, but I'm unsure how as there is no hint of natural light, the only windows are thin ones that run along the top of the wall. The fluorescent lights give the room a faded, flushed out look. I take a deep breath and regret it, the smell of chemicals trying to cover vomit and sweat.

I walk up and to the screened counter and smile at the police officer. The Perspex was scratched and chipped to the point it looks frosted.

"How can I help?"

"I think I'd be some help to you on the missing girl case,"

"Oh yeah how's that?" His face is bemused.

"Can I speak to the one in charge of the case please?"

The officer rolls his eyes, pupils still in the back of his head as he huffs, pulling himself up, chair groaning in protest. He disappears behind a door and I hear a muffled voices.

A taller, pointy chinned man comes out of a side door and his wild eyes, deep bags beneath, settle on me.

"You," he clicks at me.

I feel my lip curl.

"What do you want?" His voice is gruff, tired.

"I'm here to help out with the missing girl case,"

"That's not how it works, you can't just show up and butt your little nose in,"

"I can help in ways you can't, I have a list of references from previous cases I've helped on. Please just have a look,"

I hand him my binder, the more official it looks the more likely they are to let me help. I got turned away a lot more when I had numbers on scraps of paper.

"Are you a PI?" he wrinkles as he says this, like it's the most disgusting thing he could think of.

"Not really, if you could just talk to someone on the list, I think you'll recognise some names on there."

I watch his eyes scan and widen as he sees some of the more prominent officers, with the cases I helped solve next to them.

"Please just call one of the many numbers I've given you, there are policeman who will verify my help with these cases and we can all save some time"

He leads me back into a small office with a phone and sighs as he picks up the receiver and begins to dial the first number.

Over the time of the four calls he makes he gets more and more pale, a sheen of sweat forms on his forehead and upper lip. He looks like he's going to be sick.

I catch snippets of conversation from the other side of the phone, explaining my abilities and they all conclude the same way: let her help, don't ask questions.

"Now I'm going to need you to choose two people who will keep their mouth shut and they're the only people to know about me, do you understand?"

He nods slowly and stands up, using the desk for leverage.