Hourglass → Ace; Nancy Drew [1]

i. the message in the drawing

THE MESSAGE IN THE DRAWING
CHAPTER ONE

The sheer sunlight beamed through the glass windows, mixing with the brown of the table to create a bright amber. Olivia's fingers tapped against the wood rhythmically, the soft patting sound playing in sync with her wandering thoughts. Even in the luminous daytime, her mind drifted as it did at night when she was alone with nothing to distract her. Like a boat, lost ashore, her brain was an overactive ocean of aimless words and insignificant questions. Things she had no outlet for, nothing to keep her busy and distracted from what only appeared in her head when she was bored, and most of all when she could hardly keep her eyes open. When all she wanted was to relax, to not feel or think about the countless things flowing through her head.

She removed her right hand from her forehead, temporarily stripping herself from the shield protecting her eyes from the blinding sun to cover her mouth as she yawned. As the deep yellow light hit her eyes through the window, she squinted her eyes and looked away. She wanted nothing more than to go home and sleep in the comfort of her bed; under her warm comforter with her fuzzy socks. Yet, her gut pleaded her to stay at the restaurant even despite the stench of raw fish, away from the bed she hadn't had incredibly pleasant nights in.

Running her hand over her face, Olivia tried to wipe away the images that replayed in her head as the thought crossed her mind. Never had her nightmares been so vivid, yet, at the same time, she couldn't find the words to describe them. She sighed and placed both her hands on the table. Her fingers brushed against the black, thin book on the table. Instinctively, she pulled it toward her and peeled open the front cover. She flicked through the several pages of colored flowers and grey portraits until her eyes landed on the figure that flashed through her head repeatedly like a disco light.

Its eyes were large and colored with the softest amount of pressure of Olivia's pen. They bulged out of the pale, slender face that carried them, and stared back at Olivia, almost in a way of torment– to make her crack and look away. Thin horns protruded from its head, and as Olivia absorbed the features of her own drawing, she felt compelled to look away, the very sight of it making her shift in her seat.

As she averted her attention away from her sketchbook, Olivia's brown eyes met with a girl in a pear-green uniform dress, much like the ones all the other waitresses at The Claw wore. Her raven-black hair hung in a low ponytail, and she watched Olivia expectantly with her eyebrows raised and pen pressed against the small notepad in her hands. "What can I get for you today?" she asked, and while she put on a smile, Olivia could see the impatience that it masked.

"A coffee with milk, please," Olivia replied more quietly than intended, her voice too hoarse and energy too low from lack of sleep. 

"Anything else?" Olivia shook her head in response and forced a wan smile, waiting for the waitress to leave. She suppressed a frown of confusion when she noticed something had caught the black-haired girls' eye. She followed where her eyes were pointed, only to realize she was staring at her sketch.