Seth Graves (sp_sethgraves) wrote,
Seth Graves

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Damn You, Dr. Henry C. Lee. (private)

Tomorrow night, Izzy and I are to meet at the Leaky Cauldron to go someplace for a private drinking session. I wish I knew what was going on in her head. I'm guessing most of it is worry over Piotr. One day, we get news that the situation is dire; the next day, we get news that there's light at the end of the tunnel. It's like riding a rowboat across the Severn when the water's choppy.

I think I am going to ask her about these little drops of blood, too. It worries me that she's so distracted, she doesn't notice them, just folds the paper into thirds and sends the message on. The drops probably look bigger than they originally were, because they get spread out when she folds the paper. And they're always on the left side, too. Slow-velocity drops, with tails leading off to the left.

I really don't like the picture this is forming in my mind. It makes me almost wish I wasn't so interested in forensics. She's been wearing long sleeves, lately; I haven't seen her in the black, sleeveless dress in a while.


But why? Maybe she'll tell me tomorrow night, once she gets drunk enough, as it seems she's unwilling to tell me while she's sober.
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