❝you're in danger here, spencer.❞
❝we'll worry about that later. right now all that matters is you and me.❞
hazel finley is afraid. afraid of being alone. afraid of losing the people she loves. afraid of making mistakes. afraid of falling back into...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
❝The rain fell; and falling, it was rain, but, having fallen, it was blood.❞
EDGAR ALLAN POE
✩
3.0 : midnight
(tw: death)
FIN STARES INTO THE BATHROOM MIRROR, HAUNTED BY WHAT SHE SEES. The woman staring back is pale, teartracks staining her face, eyes bloodshot from lack of sleep. But there is a little girl there too, one who remembers better than Fin what pain feels like. The little girl's scars haven't faded yet: They are red and ugly and raised up above everything else. She is not innocent anymore, but she yearns to be. And so does Fin.
Penelope has still found nothing on her database of cameras, and Spencer's working on a geographical profile, canvassing abandoned warehouses and properties in Esther's comfort zone, hoping to find something viable, somewhere they can look. They are all in the conference room, and Fin is sure they are talking about what happens if they can't find Esther. What happens if Fin does something stupid.
It is just past eleven-thirty. They are down to half an hour. Fin turns the cold water on with a shaking hand and splashes her face, hoping that somehow this will make her think clearly. She feels so powerless, and feeling powerless makes her angry. And anger makes her an asshole.
She yelled at Penelope. She pushed Spencer away. They should not forgive her. They should make her pay for her sins.
That is what Esther would say.
But she refuses to let Esther conquer her.
So Fin dries her face with a paper towel and leaves the bathroom, heading back into the bullpen. It is entirely empty, the only light coming from the conference room windows, where she can see the entire team around the table. Spencer is staring at the map on the evidence board, Penelope is bent over her laptop, and the others are talking, all looking concerned.
Fin walks over to her desk and opens the drawer, pulling out Esther's file, the one with the photocopies of the letters she wrote in prison and all of her Internet history. Maybe, just maybe, reading it for the thousandth time will reveal something new. It is a hopeless task, but Fin has to find hope somewhere.
She glances over at Spencer's desk, out of habit mostly, and notices his phone lying there. Spencer has a nasty habit of leaving his phone everywhere, which is odd, considering the fact that he never forgets anything. Fin thinks perhaps it's not that he forgets it, it's that he doesn't consider it important enough to remember short-term.
Even so, she shoves it into the front pocket of her jeans. She'll give it to him when she goes back into the conference room.
Adjusting the hefty file in her arm, Fin pats her back right pocket, again out of habit, just to check if her own phone is there. She is not forgetful like Spencer, but perhaps it's because she checks so often. Very rarely does she lose it.
