✏️ The Littlest Spy

27. After Party

Isadora sighed and kicked off her shoes. She had been wearing heels for much of the day, playing the role of the dutiful housewife, and much of that time had been spent standing. She didn't want to keep those shoes on for another second after the last guest had gone. Deep down, she wanted nothing more than to crash out on a bed with a comforter and a big pile of plushies to snuggle; but she was all too aware of the detritus of the party spread through almost the whole house.

Just a few minutes, she told herself. She had a space now where she could indulge her inner child, even if that space was technically made for Estelle. She'd been so busy ever since they arrived in Evergreen Estates, and she hadn't had a real chance to get to know this place yet. She felt that she had earned it.

She was surprised, as she walked along the hallway, to find Brock already unlocking the doorway behind the stairs to the laundry room. It looked like some kind of storage cupboard, probably where the vacuum cleaner would be stored, or something equally mundane. Brock pushed the door open just a fraction of an inch, and peered into the space beyond. There were tiny things; sticky notes and fake lint, placed within the room such that it was impossible to open the door without disturbing them. And presumably, Brock's quick glance at the mirror inside confirmed that their inner sanctum was undisturbed. He opened the door fully now.

The decor was a stark contrast to the rest of their home; which looked every inch the elegant home of a professional who had retired young. In here, whimsical animal decals adorned pastel-painted walls. The tick plush carpet was pink with polka dots in all colours of the rainbow; and the floor was dotted with stuffed animals and scattered building blocks, as if children had just abandoned some game in progress. In one corner stood a child-sized table with colouring books and crayons, while bookshelves filled with picture books lined the back wall. There was just about space for a twin bed with a frilly comforter, and safety rails to guard against a restless child falling out.

It might have looked like a nursery; but there were a few details which didn't quite fit. The toys on the floor were dropped haphazardly, without any kind of order, but the crayons on the desk ranged from red on one side, to violet on the other. As if someone had tipped them out of the packet in the order they came to create a sense of disarray. And there were four large cardboard boxes standing open, containing all the toys and accessories they hadn't managed to unpack yet. And the assortment of toys on the floor had mostly been selected by an algorithm; Isadora had yet to interact with them like a real child.

As soon as she entered the room, she sat down on the floor. It just seemed so natural; just stepping into this place helped her to feel so calm, and so protected. A nursery like this was something she had dreamed of all her life, even if she had never expected she would actually have one. And perhaps that was why it had taken so long for everything to get unpacked here. There was just so much potential joy in those boxes, and she wanted to savour every detail. But right now, she knew that she couldn't sit down and play with all her toys. They had adult things to do first.

She went through the motions of sweeping the room for any kind of bugs. It was just a single room, which meant that it was easier to check for transmissions; and the walls were effectively soundproofed. The door might let a little noise escape; but they had brought a pink noise generator which was specifically engineered to render speech unintelligible in recordings. It was overkill for the technological resources of any mafia family, but that was considered an incalculable improvement over any of their secrets being revealed. And when she thought about it like that, the decor in this place changed from a reassuring image of childhood to a symbol of the complex web of deceptions they were trying to weave. Isadora found that she felt both reassured by that, and a little uncomfortable; her safe space was safe now for reasons that were impossibly far from childhood innocence.