Re: Edges of Ballroom
Hearing a familiar voice amidst a sea of chatter was one of Daryl's skills. She attested it to her impeccable attention to detail. Though it was only one word, Daryl caught it, turning her head slowly in its direction. Her steel gray gaze fell on Detective Warda, dressed in black and looking quite unhappy.
She resisted the urge to roll her eyes like a teenager that was being improperly chastised. Instead, she raised a brow, rounded chin rising haughtily. "Without context, detective, that isn't a proper question." Her face was pasted with smugness, a little series of "ha has" that she didn't release.