Flowers in the Window || W2S

3

Friday came by a lot faster than you expected, and now all the details were sorted. It was a simple arrangement-twice a week, you and Harry would go over to each other's houses, and you'd teach him the book, or help him with his writing. Additionally, Miss Leslie said that if you wanted somewhere to go during the actual school day, she'd be happy to lend her classroom to you so that you could study together.

You'd been surprised by how comfortable Harry seemed with the arrangement. After all, the two of you hadn't really spoken at all prior to this, and you didn't have any mutual friends. But although he remained almost completely silent whilst Miss Leslie gave you the tutoring syllabus she'd made you and talked you through exactly what she wanted you to teach, he'd done nothing to indicate that he wanted out of the situation. And he'd answered all of the questions presented to him with an unusual and unwavering politeness that you suspected he only reserved for teachers.

But the thing that really got you was after Miss Leslie had asked you to give her a quick rundown of the first five scenes of Macbeth, just to show your interpretations of it, and that you fully understood the context of the play. You'd done it, made your voice as confident as possible, even written down certain quotes to prove that you remembered them. And when Miss Leslie praised you for your hard work on the subject, you'd ducked your head to the side out of slight shyness, only to find Harry looking at you-smiling at you. A soft, curious smile that looked to hold a little bit of unexpected admiration.

It had completely thrown you. So much so, that you were still thinking about it while waiting for the kettle to boil so that you could serve the three elderly ladies in the corner their hot tea.

A small figure popped up in your peripheral vision, and you turned slightly to meet it. "Hi, Stella."

She smiled. Stella was one of your favourite people in the homeless shelter-she was the daughter of Australian immigrants who had died a couple years ago in a car accident. She'd been sent to the Carr Care Center after the orphanage deemed her to be unfit to live around other children. They'd claimed misbehaviour, but you suspected it may have actually been some deep rooted discrimination-because how could Stella ever fit in with all the other children when she only had one arm?

"There's been another robbery," she was saying. Even at the tender age of nine, Stella was very invested in the various crimes that took place across your city-probably because she'd been a victim of one herself. "Ashlynn's shoe store in Graves Precinct. Stole all the shoes except one glass slipper, Damien says."

Damien was a cop living in the Carr Center following the death of his wife. "What is this, the third one now?"

She nodded. The kettle screeched to indicate it was finished, but neither of you took any notice.

Recently, there had been a new string of crimes across the city that all seemed to come from someone following a specific theme. First, it was the Sunshine Garden Center, where two weeks ago, someone had broken in and stolen every single flower, except for one lone red rose. Then, just six days ago, an Asda that was only about two miles away from your apartment building had its entire fruit stock robbed, save for a single apple, lying in the middle of the aisle. The criminal's motive was originally difficult to decipher-but now, with the third burglary, things were starting to make sense.

Red rose. Apple. Glass slipper.

Fairytales.

You wondered what all of this was building up to as you finally gave in to the kettle's demands and poured the water into three mugs. One could just assume that this was just some sort of petty game-this string of robberies for Spider-Man and the police to chase after. But the symbols left behind worried you. It seemed like the villain was sending a message-that they were gearing up for a real game. One that everybody had better be prepared to play.