“What can you tell me about him?” the man questions, passing the picture of his face across the polished table.
She already knows whose face it will be. How could she not? They were entangled like a bad knot, always there and never fading.
She moves slowly to grip the picture. She’s in no rush. Nothing that resolves itself will be of any benefit to her. She’s doing them all a favor, or at least they think she is. Nothing she says will help them. He was more than they could ever dare comprehend.
“I can tell you stories that will make your favorite childhood villains seem like knights in shinning armor,” she says coldly.
An intern drops their coffee. She scoffs. “He’s like fire burning you alive. He scolds you so intensely you think it’s done. But you forget how resourceful he is. You forget the way his lips part quickly and how his eyes remind you like you’re looking into God. Just as you hear your heart slowing, it quickens. He’s found ice to heal you, because he is just that good.”
“Why are you here then?” a different intern questions. This one reeks of power and confidence. She holds herself accordingly and doesn’t allow her sex to get in the way of how she works.
“He needs to be judged for his sins,” she explains calmly, setting down the mug. Her hands are warm.
A detective slouches against his roller chair. He fails to keep his eye roll at bay. He isn’t the most religious person.
“It’s not my job to judge him, that’s God’s,” she says mutually.
“Come on,” the Detective gripes.
She holds her finger up, signaling him to stop, “God will judge him. I know that. It’s my job to arrange his meeting with him, soon. That’s what I ‘m doing here, if you’re up for it.”
“I just cleared my schedule, and his,” the powerful intern says.
“Good,” she says, happily this time, “there’s nothing better than revenge.”