….
When Leo comes back the next day, it’s immediately evident that something has changed because he doesn’t come alone.
“Don’t panic,” Leo calls to me through the door. “But I’ve got Maleficent with me. She wants to have anicechat.”
I get the succinct impression his oblique warning is aimed at Director Snow, not me.
“Maleficent” is what Leo often calls his aunt when speaking about her.
I thought it was just something he said behind her back, but apparently Leo has no problem saying such things directly to Snow’s face. I’m not sure if that’s brave or yet more proof Leo Snow doesn’t have a molecule of sense in his entire body.
I’m inclined to lean towards the latter conclusion.
When they open the cell door, I brace myself against the far wall, my arms hung low at my sides, just in case this turns ugly without warning.
“I hope you don’t expectmeto be nice,” I drawl, making no secret of my irritation with this entire process.
Leo and Director Snow stand in the doorway, and I’m struck by how similar they look. There’d be no mistaking these two people are related.
Snow is wearing a very austere expression. What with all those sharp angles, it suits her face.
Leo has shoved herself a little bit in front of his aunt. She looks nervous, more so than she was the other times I’ve seen her, which doesn’t bode well.
“Hello, Mr Roth,” Director Snow greets.
I peer around her and find myself surprised to realise Snow hasn’t brought any other guards. I thought after what happened last time, she would feel the need to arm herself with a full compliment.
It seems Leo got his sense of daredevilry from his aunt.
Leo is practically vibrating with anxious energy next to her. It’s putting me on edge almost as much as Snow’s presence.
As if determining this via telepathy, Snow turns to Leo and orders, “Please leave us, Agent Snow. You’re already late for a briefing, and there’s no need to keep your handler in a state of suspense. Mr Roth and I can well enough take care of ourselves.”
Leo looks immediately ready to fight his aunt on this. He gives Snow a mutinous glower.
“Anabelle, you can’t—”
Snow turns her head sharply, piercing her nephew with two shafts of pure ice. Leo winces under the power of Snow’s stare. It causes me to tense up even further.
Leo drags his gaze away from the iceberg he’s related to and looks at me, emphatic apology on his face.
I don’t respond, worrying it will only encourage him in this strange task he seems to have set himself in trying to befriend me.
“Please behave.” Leo looks from me to Snow, making it unclear to whom he was directing that plea.
I watch Leo as he turns and walks away from my cell, down the corridor, and out of sight around the corner.
My full attention returns to Snow when she walks into my cell like she owns it. I suppose she does own it, in a way. This is her domain, this entire base her kingdom to preside over and rule as she sees fit.
She told me I wasn’t stable enough to hire, to be one of her people, which means I’m nothing. I’m nothing in this place. Less, even, than an enemy. A defanged guard dog. Useless. And if I’m of no use to her, then what reason does she have to keep me alive? I’ve deluded myself into believing she might decide to let me go. We aren’t living in the kind of reality where someone like Snow could afford to be that reckless.
Leo said he would protect me from Obsidian Inc. He made no such promises about FISA.
Snow keeps her distance from me. The cell is large enough to accommodate it. She sits down on the raised concrete platform, taking the time to settle in, arranging herself. Legs pressed together and leaning to the side. Hands clasped in her lap.
She’s dressed smartly in a white silk blouse and black suit trousers. As before, her makeup is minimal, and she isn’t wearing any jewellery. Somehow, she still manages to look expensive. It would appear that in Snow’s case, she ascribes to the less-is-more idea.
Most people in Snow’s position would never give ground by sitting down, making herself have to look up at me where I’m standing against the wall. But Snow doesn’t seem to think she’s giving up anything, certainly not power. She knows she has all the power in this situation. It’s almost refreshing to meet someone who doesn’t feel like they need to pretend.
