what they wouldn't do | DAREDEVIL

twenty four

Chapter Twenty-Four: Mistakes

Sarah wasn't sure what she had expected when she agreed to meet Karen in the small, brightly lit noodle house. That they would spill all of their secrets over bowls of pho, bonded by their strange encounter at the post office?

Instead, they sat across from each other, a slightly sticky table top between them, and made stilted small talk while the tension of the conversation they had actually come there to have sat heavily at the table like a third person. It wasn't until after the employee behind the counter had already called out their order and they'd brought their food back to the table that the conversation began to shift.

Sarah pushed her hair behind her ear before she began eating, forgetting that doing so would reveal the bruise on her face. It had slowly started to fade from a bright reddish purple to a sickly looking green color.

"That looks painful," Karen noted, gesturing towards Sarah's temple with her chopsticks. To Sarah's relief, there was no follow-up question about how she got it.

"Not so much at this point," she said with a shrug. "It's fading."

They were quiet for a few moments as Sarah tried to figure out if she was supposed to follow this thread towards more serious subjects or continue to let the small talk linger. Luckily, she didn't have to decide.

"Last time we met, you said that you thought maybe you could help me," Karen said, watching her closely. Her eyes were a startlingly bright blue; they made Sarah feel oddly transparent.

"Yeah."

"What makes you think I need help?" she asked, her tone more curious than defensive.

Sarah let her gaze drift to the bright paintings on the wall as she thought about it. What had made her think Karen needed help? To be honest, she thought she had recognized something similar to herself in Karen the day they met: a rattled sort of loneliness that she often felt herself. But saying something like that would make her sound like a lunatic, which wasn't the image she needed to be broadcasting to someone who had seen her drop several photos of dead bodies all over the post office floor.

"You seemed nice," she said truthfully. "And I don't know a lot of nice people who don't need help after meeting James Wesley."

She watched Karen closely as she spoke to gauge her reaction to hearing the name. Sure enough, something dark flickered across her face, but Sarah couldn't quite place what it was.

Karen was silent for a minute as she leaned back in her chair and stared down at her food contemplatively, pushing her long blonde hair behind her shoulder.

"You're not a cop, as far as I can tell," Karen said suddenly, an apparent non-sequitur. "I Googled you."

Sarah blinked in surprise—first at the idea that anyone would think she was a cop, and then at the fact that Karen had been able to look her up.

"I...don't think I ever told you my last name," Sarah said slowly.

"You didn't. I saw it on your employee badge when you dropped your purse and your stuff spilled out. You work for Orion."

There goes any hope of keeping my workplace a secret, she thought. She'd been hoping not to reveal too much about her life to Karen until she had figured out more about her, but it seemed as though Karen was a few steps ahead of her. There was no point in lying about it now, anyway.

"Yeah. I'm...a secretary there." Though she wasn't really a secretary anymore, was she? She didn't really know what her title was anymore. Personal assistant? Body hider? Secretary seemed like a safe, non-suspicious sounding job title to give. "Are you a reporter, or something?" she asked nervously, put on edge by Karen's knowledge of her life. She didn't need this to become the second time in one week she inadvertently started talking to a reporter without knowing it.