Chapter 18

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"Again," he ordered, leaning against the cold brick wall and peering through the darkness at the fumbling hands struggling to pick a basic brass lock. "And try not to alert everyone on the street of our presence this time."

Isabella huffed indignantly and set the picks down, massaging her cramped hands. "Perhaps if my teacher would offer more of his expertise, I could make some progress... And I wasn't that loud."

"Anyone would be able to hear that clinking a mile away." Garrett motioned for her to move aside. He knelt by the door and withdrew his own set of picks. His fingers moulded effortlessly around the smooth handles as he slid the thin metal shafts deftly into the keyhole.

"You're still applying too much pressure. That's why your hand is sore. Remember, light touch." He leaned to the side so she could see his hands better. "Tension wrench in the base, lock pick above. Side of finger and thumb holding the wrench, other thumb and forefinger around the pick. Short, even strokes until there's no resistance, then set the pin. Repeat until the lock turns."

Even after having demonstrated slowly, Garrett could see that his protégé was still struggling. She shouldn't have been; by this point, it was almost as if she were failing on purpose. Two weeks had passed. Each night, he had taken her to a different part of the City to practice what would surely become a skill essential to her survival. Each night, she had progressed about as much as if she had a half-witted opium addict for a teacher. He had to see improvement, if not for her sake then for his own dignity.

"You're going too fast. How am I to keep a light touch if the pins are so heavy? They barely lift when I use all the strength in my fingers." She stretched out her aching hand for emphasis.

He sighed. "They only feel heavy because you're pressing on the wrench. They'll be easier to lift when you relax your other hand. Again."

She picked up the tools again and, mumbling encouragingly to herself - which he couldn't help but find mildly amusing - set to unlocking the door of the abandoned store.

Garrett had chosen the area carefully; he had to ensure no one would interrupt their lesson. The sector was rarely visited by anyone, for even those who lived in the shadows feared to tread in the abandoned ghost of a neighbourhood. Garrett himself scarcely passed through the empty streets, though more out of disinterest than fear. To her credit, Isabella had proven at the very least adequate in moving about unseen and blending in with a crowd unnoticed. When it came to lock picking though, she was a lost cause.

"Aha!" Her cry of triumph echoed down the empty street.

He had been so wrapped up in his thoughts, he hadn't even heard her set the pins successfully. Isabella beamed with satisfaction as she turned the lock and pushed the door open. She looked to him as if expecting some kind of praise but he only swept past her, not even bothering to look in her direction.

Any trace of disappointment on her face was replaced by fascination as she followed him into the building. "Oh, this is amazing," she breathed.

Garrett himself took a minute to take in the sight before them. The exterior of the building was misleading, to say the least. Though faded and weather-eroded on the outside, the interior remained almost untouched. Bursts of deep, rich colours decorated the walls and floors in lavish carpets and lush curtains. On the shelves lay piles of neatly arranged hats and in the polished display cases sat rows of fur-lined leather gloves.

What piqued his interest far more were the sparkling jewels in the far end of the room. Out of habit he ducked underneath the counter and reached out with an eager hand for the jewelry cases.

"Wait," she whispered.

Garrett turned around, eyes searching for a source of danger.

"It's just..." She took a deep breath and paced the room. "Must we really steal from here?"

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