✓ Chaos Theory | Diego Hargreeves [1]

【CHAPTER FIFTEEN】

—chapter fifteen.

  ❛ this shit's overblown. life's overrated. 
so why am i trying so hard at it? ❜

"YOU'RE GOING TO BE CALM TODAY, RIGHT?"

Elodie glanced over to the older woman, taking in the stern almost glare that was being sent her way. She felt herself shrivel. "Yeah. Of course."

"Good. Because," she paused, swiping the tube of lipstick across her thin lips, "it won't do either of us much good if you leave any meetings with him estranged."

"I know. I'm sorry. I just...was having an off day, is all."

Matialli's look softened a little, but she didn't say anything about that. Probably because there was nothing to say to it. They both knew she was lying and Elodie was certain she knew that her father was more than an innocent, but acknowledging either fact meant poking holes in their own cases.

And so she just slipped her lipstick back into her bag and straightened her blazer, standing still in wait for someone to escort them in.

Elodie, this time, had had several days to prepare herself for the visit. It was one of the most official ones; just before the case, where they all had to sit and ready every argument and play that they would pull. And she felt a little less queasy than she normally would walking in there, though not by much, feeling somewhat protected by Matialli's presence.

Not that her father wasn't capable of a massacre with a witness. But, still.

Her mood had remained higher the past few days, too. Despite the constant worrying of what was to come, it was easier to continue with life, what with Diego swinging by every other day, and Ellis and her Grandmother to talk to otherwise. She finally had something other than her father's crimes to think about, and maybe that was what kept her shoulders high and wits about her that day.

Out of the corner of her eye, a dark shadow moved, and Elodie watched the same detective that she had met last week stroll up. Detective Patch wore a very similar pantsuit as their last encounter, complete with the same sleek ponytail, and with that same purse to her lips that mussed up her pretty features. Only a brief flit of emotion danced when the two young women's eyes met, but if she thought anything, it was carefully covered with coveted professionalism.

Elodie could only hope, her memories did not stain her cheeks either.

"Ma'am," was directed towards Matialli, who immediately stepped forward. Elodie sank back. "If you don't mind, there's someone who wants a word with you?"