In the time it took for me to swing both the bathroom and bedroom door open to let myself through, Irene had already beaten me to the downstairs dining room.

Was awfully glad no one was keeping track of my whereabouts. I wasn't particularly keen on having to explain why I took the longest to prep myself out of everyone here.

Like what are you, a girl or something? Can't find your eyeliner? Ran out of lipstick? Mascara running?

Kay, now I'm just being sexist. Apologies.

Could smile, shrug my shoulders, and go with the classic 'brush it off' approach, but I don't think I'd be able to find it in myself to put on my acting shoes at the moment… especially not after what I just experienced not even five minutes ago.

I was still making my way down the stairs when I found Ash sitting idly by in the living room. Back straightened, head held high, and with both hands on her lap, reminded of a guard dog on eternal guard duty, 'specially with the way her eyes kept a close watch over the figure still blissfully in perpetual slumber.

Ash and Ria, to my knowledge, were mere acquaintances and nothing more. Roommates if you wanna make it more intimate, but that's as far as their relationship went.

They give their mornings, afternoons, and goodnights to each other, maybe even strike up a conversation or two here and there… but there was always this hierarchy that persisted, this invisible totem pole of authority that Ash continually adhered to.

I always had the impression that she saw Ria as her superior, not an equal, always so courteous and formal even at times when it wasn't all that necessary. Reminded me of those victorian maids and their commitment to maintaining all things professional.

Even if that were really the case then, it certainly wasn't the case now. How Ash was looking at her, and the impression I got from it, it really was hard to argue whether that was just the courteous and formal side showing again… or if something more sentimental lied beneath those emerald eyes.

I, for one, am leaning more towards the latter guess.

That the Elf-Knight before me was good and kind, that despite the repulsive and frightening aura that enveloped her very being… that she was so much more than what she believed herself to be.

I decided on it, and I'm gonna stick with that belief, firm and strong, and I refuse to let anyone, not even her, tell me different.

Slow steps, curious steps, down the wooden steps, my head tilting more and more sideways as I got closer and closer to the dining room table, and by the time I got there, my neck was a full ninety degrees leaning left, crossing arms, and pursing lips.

Irene had her hands to her hips, sporting a black blazer thrown on top of her white blouse, not really sure where she got that spare piece of attire from, but I've a feeling Ash's courteous demeanor extended past nice words and head bows.

Got a closet full of formal clothes, yet most remained untouched ever since our arrival. Ash simply preferred to keep her dressings simple and modest. 'Least now some of them were being put to good use, even if they were a little tight around the waist area. Irene didn't seem to mind too much.

There was a spiciness to the air around her indicating a recently applied layer of fragrance protection, it got me crinkling my nose at it as I drew up beside her. Her eyes met mine for a brief moment, her stern face, her slanted brows, so brazen in its disapproval.

Her voice too, back to that tone so strict and sour, as she muttered to me with narrowed lips, "She's not gonna be driving."

"No," I said, sighing, inching myself closer to the table. "I don't think she's going to be doing anything actually."

Remember that theory I had where I said it seemed like all of us were taking turns one by one falling asleep at one another? Welp, I guess it was Amanda's turn again - slumped over, her voice groaning feebly past her frazzled locks, a half-empty mug still in hand.

"Amanda?" I called out to her softly, one hand patting her shoulder. "Still alive?"

There was a sharp hiss of air, and another gravelly groan sounding out loud. "Alive…"

"The pitcher's empty," Irene continued to grumble, lifting the now crystal-clear pitcher effortlessly in the air. "You've ever heard of impulse control?"

Amanda, through strenuous effort, managed to raise her head up, just to stare squinty-eyed at the scowling detective, and pointed a quivering finger squarely at her face. "You are seriously… the last person… I wanna hear that from."

Irene lowered the pitcher and took a step back. "Touche," she muttered, folding her arms.

"Hour's up, Amanda," I said, finger-snapping her slugging gaze onto me. "Can't afford to waste any more time here, we gotta go now."

Amanda, smacking her lips, curtained her hair over her ears, and spoke again. "I… uh… sorry, I think - I think I might have to take a raincheck on that. Go without me, alright?"

"Can't really do that. You're what's gonna get us through the front door, remember? Without you, the whole thing's a bust."

"Right, I considered that," She said, slumping her elbows onto the table, hiccuping once. "That's why I called a friend beforehand, while you were all dressing and prepping."

"You called a friend?"

"I know a guy, right? See he interns there, but he's good, people like him. I told him to be expecting you."

"You didn't mention this beforehand."

"Didn't need him beforehand" Another hic. "His name's Jay by the way."

Irene stepped into the fray once more, diverting all eyes onto her. "You know the place better than we do, the people better than we do. We wouldn't know a Howard from a Todd."

Amanda made a little grimace, hand over her lips, stifling a little burp. "Detective, aren't you? I think you'll do just fine."

Yeah, seeing that state she was in, gaunt, grimy… and a little undone… don't think she's in a proper mind to be coming at all. Plus, I doubt a creased tracksuit would be deemed proper wear in such a formal environment. Yeah, it'd be better if she sits this one out.

"It's fine, Irene," I interjected before she could weasel in a rebuttal. "We're gonna need a house-sitter anyway to watch over Ria and Adalia. Just us three would do."

I turned again to Amanda's gaunt-looking expression. "Watching those two, you can do that right?

She tried to raise two thumbs up, but messed up somewhere along the line, and only managed bent thumbs to show for it. "Just give me a call if you need anything. Likewise, I'll do the same if something happens here. I doubt it."

"Don't sleep," Irene said sharply.

"Yes, Ma'am…" Amanda said, plunging her forehead down to the table once more. "Won't sleep."

The surly Succubus glumly shook her head. "Car keys."

Without any warning, and without once stirring, with a jingle and a jangle, a little rectangular slab suddenly came hurtling my way, to which I tried to ensnare by clasping both hands together, yet alas only managed a resounding clap as it slipped past the tips of my fingers.

Irene, on the other hand, simply stood in place, casually swiping at it mid-descent without even batting an eye, and catching it with a closed first, before walking away all slick and cool like towards the front door.

"I'll drive," she called out, exiting first, leaving the doorway ajar.

I decided to linger about for a little while longer, feeling that little sense of peculiarity once again keeping my gaze tethered to the figure laying slump. I didn't take her for the careless, reckless type… didn't seem like her to not see things through to the end.

Hell, if she could go through the plight of having to face the literal embodiment of her trauma riding shotgun with her in the front seat of the car… it's a little weird she couldn't push past a mere caffeine hangover.

Something else was up, wasn't it?

"What's up, Amanda?"

Tried to come off as casual, but ended up sounded like a concerned parent instead.

And funnily enough… that's exactly what was up.

Amanda, keeping down at the table's hard surface, lifted her eyes up, a little glossy shimmer blurring her dark-browns.

"I got a call. Dad called," A sniffle. "Mom isn't waking up."

Felt something inside me take a tumble. Words… I didn't know what words to say. I could feel my throat go dry. "I'm… I'm sorry to hear that."

"No, don't be, it's just…" Amanda hid her eyes beneath her sleeves. "When I heard that, it's like... I didn't want to move at all. I just… I think I just want some assurance, you know? Tell me, you'll… you'll get rid of the Blight, won't you?"

I nearly spoke out again, nearly said the wrong thing. 'I'll try', wasn't what she needed to hear. 'I'll do my best', just wouldn't do here.

"Yes," I said to her, no hesitation, not a sliver of doubt. "Consider it gone."

She raised her head again, staring - her trust, her faith, the small smile she gave, I'll make sure it won't be misplaced.

"Thank you."