At exactly 12:04, with a quiet "Excuse me," to her co-worker, Beauty went to the front of the store. She didn't typically carry a purse, but today she'd taken one -- a small black thing with a cell phone pocket on the outside, small enough to clutch in her lap. She pulled out the note she'd written last night on rose-embellished stationery. She'd put Errol's name in beautiful script in the center of the creamy envelope. Tapping her finger nervously on the side of that note, she eyed the front door and waited a few more seconds.
At 12:05, the yellow car pulled up in front of the store. Beauty set the note directly on top of the register, then hurried out the door, leaving the bell to ring behind her. The beating of her heart was rapid, but she ignored it. Once inside the cab, she tugged out the bit of paper where she'd written down the information about her false appointment. During the cab ride, she read her notes twice and focused on the next steps, firmly pushing her trepidation away. She was angry enough to do it more easily than she'd imagined.
Just outside Arkham's reception area, Beauty took out the watch Bruce had given her and looped it around her palm so only the strap was visible if she kept her hand closed. Then she used her cell phone to dial Errol's mobile number. While the phone rang, she tucked the device upside-down in the pocket of her purse, then stepped up to the receptionist.
"Hope Jones," she said to the receptionist. "I have an appointment with Dr. Crane about my nightmares."
She was shown to Dr. Crane's office. When she stepped into the room and closed the door, she didn't turn around immediately. A breath. She smoothed the front of her dress with her free hand, then finally whirled. Beauty was not smiling as she advanced toward the desk of the so-called doctor.