Em knows your (truth) wrote in doorslogs, @ 2014-01-20 13:27:00 |
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Entry tags: | mal |
Who: Chloe Murphy
What: A narrative
Where: Her penthouse at the Aria
When: After the news of Iris' arrest
Warnings/Rating: None, really
She hadn't left the penthouse since everything happened, not since she stumbled back to the Aria in the early hours of the morning, still half-drunk and high on endorphins from a night of dancing and more, the sort of more that she didn't indulge in very often anymore. It had been good, that time with Joey, but all that good didn't help to ease the growing sense of dread she felt as the news broke and the questions started flying.
It was easy enough to keep it together on the journals, to take time to think her words through so that her siblings wouldn't fret or worry; now was not the time to be displaying any sort of anxiety to the world beyond, after all. There were eyes upon them now, officers and detectives asking questions, and Chloe knew that all of their alibis, hers and that of her siblings, were air-tight. They were all with other people the night of the shooting, receipts to place the time, surveillance videos, people who knew them and where they were. And of course, after all, it wasn't any of them that had pulled the trigger. There was no blood on their hands, just a sizable transfer of money to a person they didn't even have the name of. Just account numbers, phone calls with phony accents.
They should be cleared of all suspicion given the facts at hand, but that didn't stop the knot of anxiety that had formed in Chloe's stomach. Maybe it was guilt, maybe it was just the sort of worry that came up when a person felt themselves in danger. And hell, maybe it would have been easier had the girl simply died. But the shooter had messed up, the girl was in the hospital, and instead of mourning as they ought to have been doing, they were angry.
If asked about how she felt about the entire situation, Chloe would tell anyone that she felt real sorry for what was going on. Because she did, at least for Neil. She felt sorry he was going through this, that he was hurting and losing sleep because he was sitting vigil for a girl that ought to be dead. She felt sorry for putting him through that, but she didn't feel sorry for her suffering. And did she feel bad for not feeling bad about it? Not particularly. And perhaps it was that fact that was the most worrisome of them all when it came down to her reaction to the entire situation.
Her phone was off, buried under some pile of clothes in her bedroom, though the journal lay nearby, open to the entry Neil had made, angry words that were accusatory, the responses that came. A cup of coffee was in her hands, heavy with brandy to lull away some of the anxiety she was feeling, and Chloe sat and watched the news as more on the case developed. She saw the breaking news announcement when Iris Morgenstern was arrested, watched the videos as she was led through the doors of the police station. She should have felt relief, but she didn't. There was nothing other than a numbness settling through her as more speculation rose, and then the press went back to what they did best, dragging all of them involved through the mud.
Chloe watched as her name was brought up more than once. The ex-girlfriend from London with the bizarre history with a cult here in the States. They had a hey day with that, even Dr. Anderson making an appearance once reporters were able to get through to him. She held her breath when he spoke, fearing the worst considering the way she had parted ways with them, but the doctor proved to be as nice as he had been back when she had met him during her college years. He spoke nothing but the best of her, a determined young woman who had much to offer to the world, and he couldn't see how she was messed up in any of this.
It was the first smile she had expressed since the news started, and Chloe reminded herself to send him a card to thank him for his kind words. With everything going on, she was learning to appreciate that sort of kindness; it was harder to come by these days.
There was another drink of coffee, smooth and warm as it traveled down, and Chloe continued to watch the news, listen to the horrors, and wonder how her life had come to this point.