isabella [h.s.]

twenty five

**That girl is a problem,
girl is a problem**

ISABELLA

When I walk out of the office after making my statement, I almost jump out of my skin when I find Nancy stood a few feet away from me. She's leaning against the wall of an office cubicle, her arms crossed and her posture relaxed as if she's been waiting for me for a while. I'm half tempted to bolt in the opposite direction so I don't have to talk to her, but I decide that's not very mature, so instead, I begin to walk towards her, quickly tucking the post-it note the officer who took my statement scribbled his number onto in my bag. Once she notices I'm approaching, she pulls herself away from the wall and stands up straight, her icy blue eyes watching me closely as I step closer.

"Hello, Nancy," I say brightly, mostly because I can't really pass by without acknowledging her, and also because I want to know if, and why, she was waiting to talk to me. "Twice in one day. To what do I owe the pleasure?"

The edges of her lips lift slightly at my words, but it's more of a grimace than a smile. She's definitely better at pretending to tolerate me when Harry's around. "I just wanted to talk to you," she says, and when I just blink back at her, she adds, "About Harry."

Surprise surprise. "What about him?" I ask, a tired sigh leaving my lips as I say it. It's a bit rude on my part, but I've already been in this precinct for way longer than I wanted to be, and I really can't be bothered to have some kind of stand-off with Nancy right now, or even talk to her at all, really. It's not that I want to dislike her, in fact I would very much prefer to like her. I'm a firm believer in women supporting women; it's a mantra I truly live by and try my best to practice in my everyday life wherever I can. I especially want to support women like Nancy; women in business, women CEOs, women who are working in fields that have historically been dominated by men. But women are still people, after all, and some people are just awful. Like, for instance, Nancy.

"It's about his work, really," Nancy says, which I'm quite surprised by. I was expecting her to tell me to fuck off for good because she wants Harry for herself, but maybe she's saving that for later. "I've kind of been...worried about him lately."

My eyebrows furrow. "Why? I thought he was the best detective in the homicide department or whatever?"

"He is! Or...was," she replies, a somber frown now etched into her features. She really does seem very emotive when Harry is concerned. Perhaps if her career as a detective doesn't end up going so well, she could pursue acting instead. "But over these past few months, his work has been slipping a bit. Or a lot. He's not solved any cases."

"Isn't he working on a serial killer case or something?" I ask, which seems to surprise Nancy. I realise a few seconds later that I'm probably not supposed to know that, but it's not like Harry told me - I pretty much figured it out myself. Besides, it's not exactly a genius deduction anyway. I'm sure anyone who's been reading the news about all the women who've been murdered lately managed to figure it out. "Surely it takes a while to solve a case like that."