Metanoia

Chapter 2: Informed

Jovie Everhart shifted. The smell of musty wood was crawling up her nose, forcing its way in like a wiggly worm, now scrunched up in discomfort. Moreover, her life had certainly not been the best in the past few minutes. Firstly, Ezra. Secondly, Mr. Will Garcia is now standing in front of her, his mere presence dimming the already dim atmosphere of the chilly office. His looked down as his chocolate-brown eyes penetrated Jovie's.

"So you've been...failing to make a full delivery, I've heard."

"...um, yeah."

She shifted, hoping to get out of this situation as soon as possible. Her heart was itching for the taste of the outside world, and she silently prayed that the sky wasn't raining again. Or better yet, could it rain on Ezra? Could she even do that?

"We're all fully aware that you've done that more than once, all in the same fashion."

We're? Ouch. lamented Jovie, tapping her feet impatiently. She frowned, watching the gold-plated clock on the desk tick by torturingly slow. Tick, tock. Tick, tock......

"Let's delve deeper into the reason, shall we? The most basic morals suggest that learning from your mistakes is of paramount importance to your own future."

You're not my dad.

Jovie ran her fingers through her hair as she winced and took a step back. But she stopped herself. Don't be a coward. Don't be a coward. This isn't Ezra.

"I believe you know your reasons for your multiple failures, don't you?" Mr Garcia eyes pierced into Jovie like a sharp dagger.

"I..." she looked down. This will be over, and I will survive. "Maybe I should work harder?"

She meekly tilted her head up to meet Mr Garcia's gaze.

He slammed his fist onto the table and let out a single, defeated sigh.

"It always seems to be related to weather..." he muttered.

Jovie Everhart plunged back to reality with a jolt, as the cold sense of dread ran through her legs, causing her to back away. Had they figured it out?

Millions of visions flashed through her head, as if a wet towel had been draped over it. Magic was a bad thing. It meant madness. It meant agony. It meant the loss of control over your own body as raw unbridled power consumed you.

And it also meant Metanoia—the place magicians were contained, so she'd heard.

She muttered something sensible. "I—uh—uuuuuhmmm—"

"It's strange, isn't it? It didn't seem to have been raining when Mr. Arable received his order..."

Jovie Everhart's expression turned into one of panic. Gosh, she thought she had gotten away with it. Ezra had somehow caught on to her, but even Will? They really had her in the ropes...

"—oh... oh no," she rasped. Her throat tightened up with the lump forming inside her.

"And is it true that this was not the first time something like this has happened?" He asked her with a raised eyebrow.

"I guess." Well, that was vague. But being vague, somehow, could get you out of trouble.

"I don't believe in coincidences, Jovie. But I do believe in you—"

Does that mean this is finally over? "-thank you Mr. Garcia-" she interrupted but quickly snapped her mouth shut seeing Will's expression.

"I do believe that it has something to do with...how do I say this? Some...supernatural force, perhaps? Maybe even magic?"