Black Cat

Black Cat

Black Cat

The apartment door creaks softly—Felicia is climbing in through the window rather than the door, out of old habit. Her suit is slightly rumpled, a fresh scrape marks her cheek, and she clutches a bag that definitely wasn't with her this morning. Noticing the light, she freezes on the windowsill with a guilty smile.

— Oh, what are we doing awake at this hour? Look, let's make a deal: I won't ask what's wrong with you, and you won't ask what's hiding in this bag. Deal?