We'll See

Ten months and fourteen days

“I can’t believe Laf sold me out.”

“In their defence, I don’t think they’re very good at denying Perry something when she asks.”

Laura glared at Carmilla, who sat opposite her, before glancing to ensure her father was still at the bar ordering them food. She had purposefully not told Carmilla where she was taking her dad, only to have her turn up anyway, introducing herself as Laura’s friend, and her father, her kind welcoming father, asks that she joins them.

“You better not tell him we got married.”

“I think he’d be thrilled. He likes me.”

“That’s because you’re being uncharacteristically charming.”

“I’m always charming. You’re just determined not to see it.”

“Carmilla.”

“Relax, cupcake. I won’t tell him.”

Her dad returned a moment later, having placed their food orders. As they chatted, Laura watched her father and wife interact, and though she loathed to admit it, it really did seem like her dad liked Carmilla. She made him laugh, and actually listened to the stories he told, that even Laura, who had all the love in the world for her father, found terribly uninteresting.

He asked about her family, and Carmilla’s smirk dropped and her eyes developed that distant look they often did when conversation headed that way, and Laura deftly moved it on. If she glanced at Carmilla to check that she had that small smile back, and received a grateful nod in return, she was quick to ignore it.

As they walked home, they passed Carmilla’s building, and Laura told her father to carry on a moment while she walked Carmilla to her door.

“He totally likes me.”

“Please shut up.”

But Laura was smiling when she said it, and Carmilla grinned back.

“Sorry I crashed your father-daughter time.”

“No you’re not.”

“No I’m not.”

She went to turn away, but Laura called her back.

“Hey, Carm.” Laura’s smile had dropped, and she was frowning slightly. Carmilla ignored the urge to poke fun at her to make her smile again, and listened. “If I asked you to stop bring me breakfast, would you?”

Laura ignored the flicker of hurt in Carmilla’s eyes and sudden tension in her body. The smirk was gone, and instead she looked troubled. When she spoke it was small and hurt. “If that’s what you wanted, then yes. Of course I would.”

“Okay.”

“So you want me to stop?”

“No.” Laura wasn’t even surprised by her response. Breakfasts without Carmilla didn’t really seem feasible anymore.

“Laura, I’m confused.”

“I don’t want you to stop bringing me breakfast. I just wanted to know that if I did, you would.”

“So breakfast is still on?”

“Yes. Maybe not tomorrow, my dad will still be here and I won’t tell him who you are until we’re divorced in ten months and fourteen days.”

“We’ll see.”

“Goodbye Carmilla.”

“Bye cutie.”

Laura waited to watch as Carmilla entered her building. She decided she wouldn’t mention seeing her click her heals together before ascending the stairs.

//

"Aw, cupcake, this is so sweet."

"Don't read anything into this, Carmilla."

"Coming to look after me when I'm ill."

"Only because if you die I'll have to start paying for breakfast."

//

Nine months and twenty eight days

"The janitor doesn't care that you’re my wife, Carm."

"He asked me how I am."

"Married and sexually sated is not an answer."

"Says you."

"And I'm not sexually sating you, so maybe you should bug whoever is."

"Oh, cupcake, you're the only one for me."

She sat down at the table in the break room at Laura's work, smiling up at her.

"Anyway, I was just passing by."

"We're twenty minutes from anywhere you work, live, or drink."

"Fine, I walked twenty minutes out of my way to see you, but I brought Subway."

"Did you sneak salad onto it again?"

"Yes. Lettuce won’t kill you, but nutritional deficiency might."

The lettuce didn't stop Laura from attacking the sandwich.

"Who shat in your cheerios?"

"Excuse me?"

"You seem blue."

"It's just this story." Laura glared at the offending file. "It's a really good one about a really bad guy, but I can't publish it because I don't have any reliable sources." The air quotes around the last two words made Carmilla smile. "And the newspaper doesn't want to get sued."

"Those bastards."

"So unfair."

"Can I?" She opening the file and started reading. "Embezzlement? Dumbing crap into the ocean?"

"He's killing the whales."

"Not the whales." Carmilla mock gasped.

"This is serious."

Carmilla smiled at Laura's scrunched up face. If she didn't look so cute when she was annoyed Carmilla might spent less time causing it.

"I can help. I am a lawyer, you know."

"You've mentioned."

"I can look into it. See if anyone will talk. Find you that allusive reliable source. It’s amazing how many people are happy to speak when you throw around words like impeachment and interfering."

"You don't have to."

"But I'm offering.”

Some help is what Laura desperately needed, and it wasn't that she didn't trust Carmilla, she just didn't want her first major story to be because her accidental wife is a big shot lawyer.

"Look, Laura." Carmilla could sense her unease. "I can just look into it, ask around, nothing might come of it, and if something does you can decide what to do then."

"Only if you're sure."

"I wouldn't offer if not."

"Thanks, Carm."

"See, I'm not totally terrible."

"Not totally."

"I feel like we're bonding."

"Is anyone sexually sating you?"

"Jealous, cutie?"

"Just want to know who I should warn."

//

Nine months and twenty days

As far as Carmilla was concerned, it has been going well. She and Laura were getting on, so far she had avoided cheating on her not-wife, and she finally felt like things were coming together.

Then her mother rang, having found out about Carmilla’s marriage from rumours running around the firm. It was sloppy work, in Carmilla’s opinion, that her mother only found out now, two and a half months later. That, or she had been waiting for the opportune moment to use this, and getting her daughter and wife to attend a party at Carmilla’s old house was the perfect one.

Carmilla exhausted a lot of time trying to figure out her angle, and had no idea. It was to be surprises all round.

Convincing Laura to attend had taken less effort than she expected. She had arrived for breakfast, the normal smirk and remark absent, and Laura had felt the tug in her chest whenever Carmilla looked anything less than fine. She had decided that there were few people in the world who deserved nothing but good, and Carmilla was one of them, though she found it hard to pinpoint exactly when that became the case.

The familiar distance in her face and eyes whenever her mother came up made Laura agree instantly to accompany Carmilla to whatever it was her mother had planned.

When she saw the dress Laura was going to wear Carmilla decided the visit may be worth whatever her mother wanted from her.

Getting to her old house required a four hour plane ride. Carmilla had sat dead still all flight, barely responding to Laura, who had even let slip a few innuendos in the hope it would cause some sort of response.

Things hadn’t been perfect, but it had been good, and Carmilla should have realised that that was enough of an angle for her mother.

“Carm?” Laura’s voice floated to the loft. “It’s a big house. If you’re here I’d like a hint.”

Carmilla squeezed her eyes shut and pressed her head to her knees. She knew hiding in a loft wasn’t something a supposedly grown-up lawyer should do, but this loft was her safe place. It was her, and her brother, and her sister’s safe place. She hated this house, every part of it, except for this loft.

She could hear the sound of bedroom doors being opened, and Laura complaining under her breath. Despite the strain on her chest and mind, Carmilla called out softly.

Laura found the ladder, and sat next to Carmilla in the spacious loft.

“Hey.”

“Hey.”

Carmilla looked small, wrapped up in herself like that, and Laura longed to comfort her somehow, but had noticed how little Carmilla initiated contact. For all her comments and flirting, she had never so much as tried to hug Laura. She settled for shifting so that their arms were touching.

“What brings you here?” she asks carefully. The sounds of the party happening downstairs were non-existent.

“I used to come here, when things got too bad. Even now the smell of damp and rotting wood fills me with a sense of calm. How did you find it?”

“Your brother told me where you might be. He’s running interference with your mother.”

“Bet he loves that.”

“I heard what she said to you.”

“Laura.”

“She’s wrong.”

Carmilla pressed her head into her knee again. Her cheek stung from where her mother had struck her for her insolence, in that back room away from the party, and that sensation was almost as familiar as the smell of damp.

“It doesn’t matter.”

“It does, Carmilla. If you believe those things, then it does. You’re nothing like what she said, okay. You worked for where you got. I’ve seen you.”

“Laura, please.”

“You are a good person. I know I give you a hard time, but I do truly believe that you are good.”

Carmilla looked at her with shining eyes. “I’m sorry I dragged you here.”

“I’m sorry you had to come here at all.”

“She meant it when she said she could destroy me. Keep mother happy, that’s what we do.”

“I’m going to write such a scathing article on her when we’re divorced in nine months and twenty days.”

That dragged a smile out of Carmilla, and Laura beamed back. She was barely visible in the limited light, but to Carmilla she had never looked more beautiful.

“We’ll see.”

“Your sister said we can leave whenever we want.”

“Can we stay for a little?”

“I’m going to hug you.”

Carmilla leant into Laura as her arms encircled her.

“I don’t have many people who come looking for me.”

Lips pressed against her forehead and stayed there, and Carmilla’s chest felt a little less tight.

//

Nine months and six days

“I’m going to tell you something, and if you sound in any way smug I’m hanging up.” Laura’s voice from the telephone in her office made Carmilla smile.

“Hello to you too, cutie.”

“Carmilla.”

“Okay, I’m listening.”

“And?”

“Totally devoid of smugness.”

Laura made a sound indicating she didn’t believe her, but spoke anyway. “My dad is in town today and has asked if you could join us for lunch.”

“Really?” Carmilla beamed.

“That sounded smug.”

She schooled her expression. “Really?”

“Better.”

“So he did like me.”

“We’re meeting at two.”

“Are you going to tell him we’re married?”

“Would rather burn my fingertips off.”

“Graphic.”

“Been spending too much time with Laf.”

“So two?”

“If you’re late we’re leaving without you.”

“I won’t be late.”

//

“You know it’s funny, for some reason I thought you came to see me, and not Carmilla.”

“Oh hush.”

Her father smiled at her, and Laura grinned back. Carmilla had been late, texting that court had ran over – which Laura didn’t believe and thought she only sent that to sound fancy – and was meeting them at Danny and Kirsch’s bar.

“I like her.”

“Please don’t tell her that.”

“So you two are just friends?”

Laura could answer that with “actually, dad, we’ve been married for three months, and she’s taken it upon herself to make me fall in love with her” but instead went with “Yes, and please don’t tell me that’s why you wanted her to come.”

He waved a hand. “Of course not. You just seemed more open with her here, that’s all.”

“I’m plenty open.”

“You’re practically a tin can.”

“An open one.”

“Hey, L.” Kirsch arrived, grinning, to their table with their drinks. “Where’s the misses?”

“Kirsch,” Laura snapped in warning. He cast a glance to Laura’s dad, who was looking at her with raised eyebrows, before mouthing sorry and quickly slipping away.

“How’s work?” her father asked, kindly offering Laura an out.

She was telling him about the Vordenberg problem she was having when Carmilla approached them.

“Sorry,” she said, smiling at them both, “Court ran over.”

“Is that code for you spilt something and Perry had to rescue you?”

“You know me so well, cutie.”

She signalled to the bar for a drink (Danny signalled back with the middle finger), then sat next to Laura, greeting her father warmly. He’d gone from Mr Hollis to Michael, and Laura was dejected by this. They did the obligatory “How’re things?” “Things are fine,” before settling into conversation.

Their plates were being cleared when her father lapsed into a thoughtful silence. Laura watched him for a moment, half listening to whatever Carmilla was saying, before nudging him under the table with her foot.

“Dad?” she prompted, causing Carmilla to stop, “Everything okay?”

“I need to talk to you about something.”

“Do you need me to go?” Carmilla asked.

“No, it’s fine. Laura, I know you’re not going to like this, but hear me out, okay?”

“Kinda worrying me, dad.” Carmilla curling her hand around Laura’s beneath the table calmed her thoughts. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong. I’ve just been making some changes. I’m going to sell the house and move to something smaller, something still nearby, but just something a bit more appropriate.”

Laura was silent, and Carmilla could feel her grip tighten. She watched her from the side to see her jaw was clenched.

“And I know you don’t want to do this,” her father continued. “But you need to look through your old stuff. Find what you want to keep and what we can donate or throw. Laura.” Laura’s eyes snapped from the table and looked at him. “I know it’s hard, but it’s time.”

The scraping of Laura’s chair as it was thrown back made them all jump. She pulled her hand from Carmilla’s and went for the exit, leaving Carmilla to look after her, confused.

“What was that?”

“Go after her,” he pleaded. “Bring her back.”

Carmilla nodded, heading for the door, shrugging at Danny’s puzzled look at she passed. She found Laura sitting on a shop step, and carefully sat down next to her.

“Hey.” she said.

“Hey.”

They lapsed into silence, Carmilla fiddling with her hands and wondering how to approach this. Laura looked angry, not close to tears like Carmilla feared. Anger, she could deal with. Sadness was a whole different thing.

“So,” she ventured, “Want to tell me what that was about?”

“Sorry.”

“Why don’t you want him to sell the house?”

“It’s not that.”

“Seemed that way.”

Laura chose her words carefully, thought how best to tell Carmilla without seeming like she hadn’t quite gotten over the childhood trauma of being abandoned. She hadn’t, but Carmilla didn’t need to know that.

“I don’t care about the house,” she said, “It’s just going to be hard going through my old stuff.”

“Because of your mother?” She knew it was, but posed it as a question anyway.

“Yeah. When I left for college I just kind of left everything where it was. In the attic, in my room, I’m pretty sure there’s even stuff in the basement.”

“You’re allowed to be upset over your mother leaving.”

“It’s been twelve years. Don’t you think I should be over it by now?”

Carmilla smiled ruefully. “Two weeks ago you found me hiding in a loft because my mother said some mean things.”

“That’s different.”

“There’s no ‘should’ here. There’s just how you feel.”

“I shouldn’t have ran away from my dad.”

“Okay, yeah, there’s one ‘should’.” Laura smiled at that, and Carmilla grinned, glad to have caused it. “Do you think that’s why he invited me, he knew you’d do that and he’s getting too old to run after you?”

“I thought you said it was because he liked you.”

“People can have two reasons.”

“Let’s go back.”

She hugged her dad when she returned, and he told her how much he loved her. Carmilla slinked over to the bar as they sat down and talked.

//

“Carmilla, you have a cat?”

“My neighbour has a cat. I feed it when he goes away, and he doesn’t play music until late.”

“What’s its name?”

“Cheddar? Mozzarella? Camembert? I don’t know. Its cheese related.”

“It’s so small.”

“Are you crying?”

“It’s so small.”

//

Eight months and twenty eight days

"Who's Ell?"

The question blindsided Carmilla, almost making her choke on her croissant. It was Sunday, meaning she brought over the pastries instead of her usual attempt at getting Laura to consume something that wasn't mainly sugar. Laura waited patiently while Carmilla dislodged the breakfast from her throat.

She took a long gulp of juice. "What?"

"Ell. Who is she?"

"How do you know that name?"

"Your mother mentioned it."

"Three weeks ago."

"I've been biding my time."

"An ex. Sort of."

"An ex?"

"Sort of."

Laura looked at her in a way to continue. Carmilla chewed slowly on a donut.

"We were fourteen and went to the same high school. She hated her father about as much as I hated my mother, so that was quite a bonding point. While my mother expected me to go to Harvard, because that’s where all Karnstein’s go, Ell's father expected her to leave school at sixteen and go into the family business."

"What was the family business?"

"Meat. The packaging if it."

"Exciting."

"Ell didn't want that." Carmilla played with her coffee as she spoke, not having thought about those times in a while. "She wanted to do something. She wanted Harvard, and stuffy prestige, while I wanted nothing to do with that life."

"You didn't want Harvard?"

Carmilla shook her head. "My sister's the ambitious one. I didn't want the stress."

"You're a lawyer." Laura pointed out.

"That’s Perry's fault. Always going on about potential in college and how I should reach it. You know how she is."

"Supportive?"

"Terrible, isn't it."

Laura waited while Carmilla distracted herself with breakfast, occupying herself with her own food to take the pressure off.

"Anyway, we talked about this, how I was basically getting everything she wanted, and would give it all up if I could. I thought she would resent me for it, but she wasn't like that. So we came up with a plan. The Callahan's weren't wealthy people, and as far as my mother is concerned Karnstein’s only consort with wealthy people."

"No wonder she doesn't like me."

"One if many reasons."

"So you had a plan?"

Carmilla nodded. "We dated, or at least pretended to. I liked Ell, but not in that way. It made my mother furious, which I paid for, but that isn't really anything different." The distant look appeared again, and Laura placed her hand on Carmilla's, trying to bring her back. "Ell gave my mother an ultimatum. She would dump me if mother could ensure she would convince her father to let Ell attend Harvard. And since mother was dead set on keeping us apart -"

"You couldn’t go."

Carmilla grinned. “Ell got her place. I got to put on ocean between me and mother by attending Silas."

"Where's Ell now?"

"Heads up a police department in Chicago."

"Seriously?"

"She doesn't have to run a factory that packs meat, I'm not indebted to my mother where my career is concerned."

"The way she spoke it seemed like Ell was a sore point for you, that's why I didn't want it bring it up."

"Mother thinks I hate Ell, but if it wasn't for her I would have never got away. She helped save my life, I know that much."

"You know, you should talk more often."

"You've said multiple times that I talk a lot."

"Well, you do." Laura conceded. "But never really about anything. And I know I'm the same, so we should make an effort." Laura nodded, warming up to the idea. What her father said, about her not giving enough of herself, had been playing on her mind. "To talk about things. Important things. Not just which Harry Potter is the best."

"It's five."

"Carmilla."

"I can't believe you said four."

"Please."

"No one likes four."

"I'm making a speech." Laura mirrored Carmilla's grin.

"Sorry. I don't like serious."

"Me neither. But we can try. We will be married for eight months and seven days."

"We'll see."

"You know there's nothing wrong with four."

"There's a lot wrong with four."

//

Eight months and nineteen days

"I bet you fifty dollars they don't get divorced."

Laf looked around at the other three. The bar was quiet, and Perry sat beside them at the counter, with Danny leaning back in Kirsch’s arms.

"Lafontaine, we can't bet on our friends." Perry reprimands her.

"Why not? You know Carmilla has a standing bet with Jack from your office over whether you notice when she messes up your pens?"

"I always notice."

"Why do you think Jack buys drinks a lot when we go out?"

"Carmilla seems sure they won’t."

"Laura seems sure they will."

"Then why are betting against her?"

"Because Laura has this problem where she fights any form of happiness because she worries it will leave her eventually."

"Carmilla won’t even attempt happiness. She'll leave it all up Laura."

"So place your bet."

“I bet they will.”

“Danny!”

“Thank you, Danny. Any other takers?”

“Divorce, but get back together.”

“Risky, Kirsch, but adventurous. I like it.”

“Karnstein isn’t someone who waits around.” Danny said.

“Perry, any guesses.”

“I don’t like this.”

“I’m telling you, dudes, they’ll totally get back together.”

“Does Carmilla really have that bet against me?”

"She likes a challenge."

//

Eight months and seventeen days

A knock at the door alerted Perry to Laura's presence at the office she and Carmilla shared.

"Hi, Perry. Didn't mean to make you jump."

Perry shook her head. "It's fine. I was just focusing."

"Interesting case?"

"A disagreement over whether two children songs sound the same."

"Sounds fascinating."

"It really isn't, but thanks for trying."

"Is Carmilla around?"

"She went to get lunch. She'll be back soon if you want to wait."

"Will I be interrupting?"

"Yes, thank god."

Laura smiled. She had never spent much time with Perry before, her and Lafontaine having only been dating for a few months, and especially none if it alone. Since Carmilla, Laura found herself around her more often, and was happy about it. Carmilla had very little time for people who weren't worth it, and she always found the time for Perry.

"Is there a desk under all this paper?" Laura asked as she moved filed from Carmilla's chair onto the files on this desk.

"There used to be."

"This must drive you mad."

"If I ever have a stroke it's Carmilla's fault."

"Noted."

"How's work coming along?" Perry asked as Laura managed to find the desk chair.

"It's okay. Having trouble with a certain story, and most of my articles they publish are fillers, but gotta work your way up, right."

"Carmilla mentioned she was looking into something for you."

"She hadn't said anything, didn't know if she forgot."

Perry shook her head. "She's thorough. She'll let you know when she's ready. Are you still coming for dinner tomorrow?"

"Yeah we'll be there."

"It's at Lafontaine's now."

"Carmilla mentioned that they blew up your kitchen." Laura didn't say she mentioned it through bouts of laughter and impressions of Perry.

"I'm still not sure how."

"Can I listen to those children songs?"

Perry played the songs through the laptop. "They sound the same." Laura decided.

"That's my problem," sighed Perry.

A clatter and the door being kicked open signalled Carmilla returning.

"You've got to stop ordering crap with smoked salmon," she complained, throwing a paper bag on Perry's desk. "I can smell it through three layers of wrapping." She noticed Laura and gave her a bright smile.

"Hey, cupcake. Wasn't expecting you."

"I came to see Perry."

"Oh yeah?"

"What, you think I'm here for you or something?"

"As long I get to see that lovely face."

Perry watched the interaction carefully, wondering if she should have joined Lafontaine in the bet.

"Actually, I did come and see both of you." Laura said, refusing Carmilla's offer of half her sandwich and helping her move some of the files to the floor so Carmilla could perch on the edge of her desk. "I'm doing an article on corruption within uniformed police where court is concerned. Nothing serious, but it’s more exciting than where fire hydrants are redundant. I was wondering if you guys would answer some stuff?"

"You mean get interviewed?" asked Carmilla dubiously.

"Just a few questions. Nothing invasive."

"We'd be happy to help." Perry perked up.

"I'll sit this one out, cupcake."

"Carm, come on."

"Sorry, cutie. I don’t want my name in the paper again."

"What does that mean?"

"It means I won’t be interviewed."

//

"Carmilla said something strange."

"I don't know how I blew up Perr's kitchen, it just happened."

"Not that. Something about her and papers."

"Oh."

"Do you know what that means?"

"Could have sworn you were a journalist."

"Laf."

"Not my place, L. But google probably doesn't have as much of a conscience as me."

//

Eight months and ten days

Laura ate her breakfast in silence, half listening to Carmilla telling a story about some judge. She was swirling with emotions, guilt mixed with curiosity, and a slight bit of worry. But mostly guilt. If she was being honest with herself it was pretty much made up of guilt.

“And then the Blue Man Group appeared, on a dragon, and started singing I Want to Break Free.” Laura made a non-committal noise, causing Carmilla to roll her eyes and throw a grape at her. “Okay, you’re not listening, which I resent because I am a witty conversationalist.”

“I am.”

“What did I just say?”

“You were complaining about something.”

“Now that’s just a safe guess.”

“I’m sorry.”

“What’s wrong?”

“I googled you.”

Carmilla just frowned. “Okay.”

“That comment about staying out the paper. It bothered me.”

“Didn’t like what you found?”

“It’s not that.”

“I know what you read. Apparently seven years ago news was slow enough that they had to write stories about the rich Karnstein’s wild child.”

“I hate that phrase.”

“Me too.” Carmilla sighed. “I can see you’re burning with questions.”

“Guilt, actually,” Laura admitted. “It’s mostly guilt.”

“Why?”

“I shouldn’t have researched you. I should have just asked.”

“Yeah.”

“Would you have told me?”

“Nope.”

“Will you tell me now?”

“What do you want to know?”

Laura had read articles about teenage Carmilla being arrested, assaulting authority, driving drunk. Getting off each time because of who her mother is and how much influence she must have. If Laura had read that, not knowing her, she would have assumed Carmilla was a terror, a rich brat who took everything for granted and gave nothing in return. But she did know her, and she wasn’t like that, and Laura knew all too well how the media can twist stories and people’s lives.

“Did you really do all the things they said you did?”

“Probably.”

“And you never got in trouble?”

“Where do you think I get my threatening presence from?”

Laura had once witnessed her trying to kill a spider with a snooker cue because she didn’t want to get too close, but didn’t comment on the ‘threatening presence’. “Your mother?”

“Can’t have a scandal.”

“The stories weren’t scandal enough?”

“Could easily be disputed. Look at me now, bad ass lawyer despite my sordid past.”

“Sordid?”

“Sounds better than troubled, don’t you think?”

“So you never got punished?”

Carmilla scratched at a mark on the counter. “Not by the law.”

“What changed?” Laura gently pushed at her hand to stop her.

Carmilla shrugged. “Went to college. Got away from my mother. I was a stupid kid, but I grew up. Met Perry, who yelled at me until I got my act together.”

“Perry,” smiled Laura.

“Saved my life. But don’t tell her that. I like to keep a casual disinterest in my friends.”

“Your secrets safe with me.”

Laura was glad to see Carmilla smiling, not throwing accusations about Laura prying and being nosy.

“I don’t mind you knowing.”

“Okay.”

“But just ask next time, don’t pry.”

“Got it.”

“I can’t believe you never googled me before.”

“Did you google me?”

“Instantly. Once I found out your last name. It was on the marriage certificate.”

“Sometimes I forget you’re my wife.”

“I don’t, cupcake.” She smirked at Laura. “I don’t.”

//

Eight months

Carmilla paced in her office, swearing each time she paused to change direction. After looking into Vordenburg for two months she was really hoping to find something different than what found. It was beginning to look like the old man was involved in things less to do with industrial waste and more to do with contracted murder.

She spoke to contacts on the police force, as well as a couple of people from different firms, and found that Vordenburg was not above ridding himself of people who may cause him trouble. He wormed his way out of any lawsuit through influence, which loosely translated to money and threats. She judged him greatly, and was aware of her hypocrisy, given that it was only her mother’s influence that had kept her out of juvenile prison.

Laura’s research was thorough and well thought out, but it scratched the surface, and the reason no one wanted to speak out against him, it seems, was because they didn’t want to end up dead.

Perry found her, still pacing, muttering the pros and cons of telling Laura under her breath. She watched her for a moment, before sitting at her desk and letting her think.

“Pros.” Perry looked up when it became clear that Carmilla was addressing her, although what about she didn’t know. She listened regardless. “She’s impressed with my findings. She sees how good of a lawyer I am. So we get a step closer. She also might stand a chance of putting the scumbag away.” Carmilla seemed like she was waiting for Perry’s contribution, so she gave her an encouraging nod. “Cons.” She stopped pacing. “Potential death.”

This caught Perry’s attention. “Perhaps you should fill me in.”