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The blonde woman led Florence into a room with high, grey walls that seemed to close in the farther she walked. There were no windows, and the only light source came from an eerie blue glow overhead, though Florence couldn't figure out where it was coming from. It gave the office a cold, unwelcoming clutch, like the room had been waiting for her arrival.
In the center stood a round table, cluttered with a few scattered folders and papers. Four people were already seated around it, their heads snapping toward Florence the moment she entered. Their stares were heavy, assessing, like they were predators and she was the prey.
Closest to her was a short, stout man whose white hair clung to his scalp in thin, uneven clumps. His grey suit looked like it hadn't seen an iron in years, the creases almost sewn into the fabric. Beside him sat another man, older, dark hair peppered with uneven stripes of grey and a face lined with exhaustion. His sharp eyes lingered on Florence, and a faint sneer pulled at the corners of his mouth. It seemed he'd already decided she wasn't worth his time. Florence didn't like him either—she wasn't sure why he was looking at her like that. Florence hadn't chosen to come here, if anything he was wasting her time.
Across the table, a younger woman leaned back in her chair. Her brown hair was pinned so tightly it pulled at the edges of her face, making her look like a disgruntled pug. Her thin lips were coated in a layer of brown lipstick that had already begun cracking at the edges. Next to her sat an older woman with thick grey hair and eyelashes coated in clumpy layers of mascara. The black smeared onto her eyelids like she'd applied it in the dark.
Florence glanced between them. They didn't exactly scream professional. If anything, they looked like strangers who'd been pulled into the same room by accident. She lifted a shaky hand and dipped her head in an awkward wave. ''Hello.''
Blonde-bun lady motioned to the chair to her side, next to balding-stout man. "Sit down, Florence." She held her tone steady, limply cold, but there was strong authority behind it that made Florence hesitate for just a second before obeying. She lowered herself into the chair, trying but failing suppress the nervous flutter in her stomach.
"Now," the woman began, her eyes scanning the room before locking on Florence, "we have a mission for you." She paused, letting the words sink in. "It's not a big one, but it's important," she cleared her throat, "There's someone who's been feeding information to WCKD, and we need you to keep contact with her."
Florence frowned. "You want me to talk to her? Like, on the phone or something?"
"Exactly," the woman said, nodding. "The reason we chose you for this is simple. She's about your age, maybe a year older, and someone of her age is more likely to trust you than an adult. She's been hesitant to talk to anyone older than her, but with you, she'll feel more comfortable."
Florence leaned forward slightly, trying to understand the plan. She didn't feel too comfortable with it. In effect, she was just being used to recruit another kid for their missions. Yet again, all she did was sit in an office and draw all day, so it wasn't like they'd ever trust her with a star role."So... you want me to be her friend?" She tilted her head quizzically.
