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The cold had teeth that evening, sharp and lingering, the kind that didn't just bite at the skin but settled in slow, dull aches along the backs of knees and the curve of the spine. Eleanor stood just outside Rossi's house with Penelope beside her, both of them braced against the wind in heavy coats that barely held warmth. The street stretched out around them in long silence, empty except for the occasional whisper of leaves dragging across pavement.
Penelope shifted from foot to foot, the heels of her boots clicking nervously, her hands buried deep in her fur-lined pockets as though she could summon warmth by force of will. The tip of her nose had gone pink, and she kept glancing toward the curve in the road like impatience might conjure a car out of the dark.
Her fingers twitched against her coat, checking the shape of her phone for the third or fourth time, though she didn't pull it out. "Come on, JJ, I'm freezing out here," she grumbled, voice muffled by her scarf, teeth catching slightly at the edges of her words.
Eleanor didn't answer, just followed the line of Penelope's gaze into the quiet. The air was damp and metallic, the kind of cold that sank into your mouth when you breathed. The kind that brought silence with it.
When the headlights finally broke the corner, slowing as they approached the curb, Eleanor's body moved before her mind did — her spine straightening, shoulders tightening as anticipation crackled down her nerves.
"It's them," she said, and there was a small, unguarded smile in her voice, the kind that escaped before thought could filter it. Her breath hitched with the thrill of it. "Quick!"
Penelope jolted into action, thumbs tapping out a message fast enough to rival code. She shoved the phone back in her pocket the moment she hit send. But Eleanor could see it — her shoulders had gone rigid, and there was a wildness behind her eyes now, the kind that bloomed when anticipation edged too close to panic.
"Pretend we're having a conversation," Eleanor whispered, shifting to face her directly, hoping it would ground them both.
Penelope blinked like she'd forgotten what language was. Her mouth opened, then hung there — no sound, no recovery, her panic plain and theatrical, eyes wide behind her lashes.
Eleanor glanced over her shoulder — JJ and Will were getting closer, already too close — and when she turned back, her gaze landed on the pair of pink chandelier earrings swinging gently from Penelope's ears.
"I love your earrings! Where did you get them?" she said suddenly, pitching her voice into a bright, admiring register, the smile on her lips practiced but easy.
Penelope's hand immediately shot to one earring, her body relaxing like someone being pulled out of a spell. "These? Thank you!" she beamed, her voice rising with overacted delight. "So there's this vintage store next to my place and it's open only on—"
