❝ I DON'T THINK IT'S WORKING . ❞ came the admission , small && tinny like a child's . it was , on technicality alone , in relation to the widow's childhood or lack thereof . she'd been scouring various documents , various leads to no avail .
there's been a slow crawl of nat crashing at steve's place , on his couch . when she initially came to visit , it was in search for a safe place for someone who could treat her wounds with no judgement or unnecessary questions . now , it was simply just to visit . she would bring peace offerings to staunch her presence intruding on the space , but it seemed that steve never minded && even encouraged her limited visitations .
this was one of those times , a vintage opened with a tin of serbian cookies on the coffee table . a file stood beside it , blackened ink hardening the otherwise soft edges of delicate paper . steve was beside the spy on the couch , large frame leaning back against the cushions . natalya had put the papers down && rubbed her bleary eyes . she'd been at it for hours .
❝ WHOEVER DID THIS , THEY DIDN'T WANT ME TO SEE IT . DIDN'T WANT ANYONE DIGGING INTO PERSONAL EFFECTS . THREE TIMES ASSASSINS HAVE VISITED MY APARTMENT . OLGA'S ASKING WHY I HAVE 'SO MANY SUITORS' . I CAN'T TELL HER THE REAL REASON , OBVIOUSLY . ❞ natalya remarked , putting her elbows on her knees && head in her hands , ❝ SHOULD I STOP SEARCHING FOR THEM ? MY FAMILY ? ❞