UPON WALKING INTO the Flora and Fauna meeting room, Claudette doesn't expect to find Maisie pacing and muttering to herself.
She stops in the doorway, observing the scowling assassin with intrigue. Maisie looks like a whole new person; her usual calm persona has been scrapped, replaced by enraged murmurs, twitchy fingers, and stomping feet. Claudette knows it's probably a bad idea to be in the same room with a furious killer but she can't tear her eyes away. Her ears strain to hear what Maisie is saying — something along the lines of damn Orion and stupid Eleanor.
"This is why you don't trust people, Gene — Maisie."
Maisie stops her incessant movement and puts her palms to her cheeks, breathing deeply and slowly. Claudette is frozen, her mouth slightly open, puzzled by the scene in front of her. In a flash, Maisie has turned from something akin to an angry wasp to someone poised, someone calm and collected.
"Oh, hey Maisie," Claudette says, pretending to be surprised.
The assassin doesn't jump or flinch or even move. There's only a quick moment of silence before Maisie says, "I saw the article."
"Yeah? What'd you think?"
"It was interesting." Maisie finally looks at her and those narrowed green eyes cause Claudette to stiffen. "I thought we were supposed to be helping each other."
Claudette laughs nervously. "We are."
"Then why haven't you told me about this meeting you had with Mauve?"
"How do you know about that?" Claudette asks warily, watching as Maisie sits down on one of the couches without breaking eye contact.
"It's my job to know things."
"You're not exactly easy to find. Where are you even staying?"
Maisie looks away, a secretive smile playing on her lips. "A friend's place. They're... out of town at the moment. It's a bit of a dump really."
Claudette just nods slowly, unsure of what to say. Maisie is an enigma, one so intricate that Claudette isn't sure anyone would be able to fully understand her. As the girl stares at her, gaze unrelenting and piercing, she can't help the fear that trickles down the back of her neck. That sense of foreboding, of trepidation, that tells her that it'd be a very good idea to leave the room immediately.
"So what do you know about her?" Maisie's question breaks the tense silence, causing Claudette to let out a shaky sigh.
"Not much, honestly. She's super scary, of course. Short, kind of like you but a bit taller. I think she wears wigs."
A laugh bubbles on Maisie's lips. "Wigs?"
"Yes," Claudette says, scowling. "At the rally I saw red hair under her hood, and then when I met her, she had brown hair. Either it's a wig or she dyed it before meeting me."
"Interesting." Maisie searches Claudette's face intently and then relaxes against the back of the couch, seemly appeased by whatever she saw. "So you don't have any idea of who she could be?"
"No."
"Alright," Maisie says calmly, and then reaches over to grab the remote from the table in front of her, turning on the small flatscreen hanging on the wall across the room.
The sound of a news channel fills the room as Claudette stands still in confusion. Why is Maisie so nonchalant about this? Wasn't she the one who needed to find Mauve?
"Maisie?"
"Hmm?" Maisie murmurs absentmindedly.
"Why... Oh, never mind." She figures it's probably a better idea not to question an assassin.
