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( unwanted tea and fake names )
★
CHLOE GLARED AT Henry Green's hand as he slid a cup of tea over the wooden table.
The woman was honest with herself― waking up in a sealed off room with windows too high for her to look out of and seeing three (almost) strangers stare at her was disorientating. The foggy feeling in her brain disappeared quickly when she saw the glass behind the twins.
She stared at the cup with a blank look before meeting Henry's eyes head on. "I don't like tea."
"Told you."
Jacob winced when his sister's elbow sharply met his ribs.
"We only wish to make you comfortable, Miss...?"
Chloe's eyes flew over the three of them. Henry was sitting across from her, and the twins were standing guard by the door. At least, that's what it looked like.
Different names flew across her mind before landing on two. "Rebecca Rogers."
She couldn't help the hesitation and mental wince. Sorry, guys.
"Miss Rogers," Henry nodded. He gestured to himself and the two other Assassins. "I'm―"
"―I know who you are," she scoffed, itching to cross her arms if it wasn't for the pesky handcuff. At their bewildered looks, Chloe quickly came up with an explanation. "The American Bureau isn't oblivious, you know. There's this thing called a message―"
"Forgive us, Miss Rogers," Evie quickly intervened― ever the diplomat― and placed a hand on Henry's shoulder. "We simply mean that we were under the impression that the only people who knew of Crawford Starrick's death were... well... us."
Jacob raised a new topic of interest altogether. "You're an Assassin?"
"Got a problem?"
Her ancestor raised his hands in defense.
"News travels fast, especially news like this," Chloe answered the woman. "Not every day the big-bad-wolf drops dead in a secret cave."
The beats of silence that followed made the hair stand on the back of her neck. The Assassin needed to get out of this interrogation and fast. She needed to find a way back home. How she was to do so was the next thing on her bucket list.
"Look," Chloe started, folding her hands and leaning to the trio. "I was just sent here by the higher-ups to investigate. Don't shoot the messenger, right?"
Jacob stepped forwards behind his sister. "We wouldn't dream of it, Miss Rogers, it's just that what you are saying doesn't make sense with the occupation we found you in and the information Mrs. Nightingale provided us after your little, ah, episode."
