Doors

[locked to eddie n.]

Have you seen or spoken to Selina recently?

[After a great deal of indecision and internal debate. A couple of days or so after the charity ball.]

[locked to selina k.]

I'm sorry I Why didn't you tell me [...] You made quite the impression. No one usually talks about a charity event this long after it was held.

Some things are not meant to be in a man's stash of red vines licorice. The unnamed card is old. Older than the photograph had been, and more worn, its edges flocked and fuzzed by centuries and fingers and mystic readings. It rests there, face-side up, but the entire card turned 180 degrees so that the figure stands on his head. Underneath the cloying scent of the red vines, it smells vaguely of sage and lavender, of wine and a sharp bite of copper blood. Everything about it is magic and age. It's one of the old decks, French, from the 17th or 18th century, stolen from a nobleman by a girl too young to know what it was (but old enough to know what a nobleman shouldn't do to a young girl), and given over to her much wiser grandmother when it was discovered. There is a long history to the deck, not all of it happy, and the other 50-odd cards sit on a small table, next to a comfortable chair, under a canvas tent, in a realm that no one ever sees.

Under the card, keeping it from touching the licorice itself, is a note. And this time, the handwriting is familiar. If maybe a little weak.

Eddie,
I didn't mean to scare you. I'm sorry.
-Muerte

[Phone call to March H]

[The call comes on Wednesday evening from the hospital that Toby works at, letting March know that his brother was admitted earlier in the evening with a severe case of pneumonia. He is in stable condition, but will likely be in the hospital for several days until his breathing improves. Toby's room number and contact information in the hospital are left with March.]

Are you done being grumpy now?

泪流满面. 泪.
今天，在工作中，客户非常粗鲁无礼.
从未有过客户这样的意思. 客户如何这么没礼貌?

drinking. never felt so sad. sorry.