Chapter Text
After a month and a half, life in Sanctuary began to settle into a kind of routine for Nick and Nora. If the sun was out, so were they; there might not be any fields to work in at the moment, but the coming of winter didn't mean the work stopped. The small settlement wasn't lacking for good position and natural defenses. However, even with the river as a barrier, there was still plenty to shore up, improve, and add onto. Nora found herself enjoying the work. It was easy enough, even if it was exhausting. The ice was thick over everything, and the snow piled high, making anything they set out to work on take twice as long. These days began with her and Nick carving out a path from the door, and ended in a mutual collapse by the radiator.
A day of good weather such as that was becoming fewer and farther between, however. The storms had grown steadily more frequent over the past few weeks, blacking out entire days at a time. During these, there was nothing to do but hunker down and wait it out. The darkness was persistent, the wind howling endlessly. It numbed the mind, the senses, and made every minute spent trapped in the four walls of her new home feel like an interminable eternity. Nick had chuckled dryly when she had started pacing early on. “Don't worry, doll. You'll get used to it soon enough.” Despite his reassurances, though, she still felt stir crazy every time a storm descended on Sanctuary.
It wasn't that she didn't appreciate or like Nick's company. They had taken to reading aloud to each other in turns from the tiny collection of books Codsworth, by some miracle, had been able to keep intact over the course of the last two hundered years. Unfortunately, the majority of the books were either textbooks left over from law school or treatises on the same subject - although, when they had finally caved and begun trudging through the dry material, it had sparked several interesting conversations regarding the practice of law both then, and now in the Commonwealth. Nora had never really had the opportunity to discuss the concepts of Law and Justice with someone who enforce them, and Nick was the perfect conversation partner - a detective both pre-and post war. It helped the days pass decently well, and Nora admitted in the quiet of her mind that she could easily listen to Nick read her old textbooks aloud for a solid week.
When they weren't reading, they played cards, Nick taking the opportunity to teach her some of the games that had developed since she been asleep, including an annoyingly confounding game that Nick said he learned from a trader who had come out of the west nearly ten years ago. If they weren't playing cards, Nora tinkered with her gun, Nick occasionally pointing something out or giving quiet suggestions while he worked on his own projects.
It wasn't that Nora didn't love this quiet intimacy that they were sharing. Because she absolutely did; the nervous tension from a month or so ago had dissipated almost in its entirety, and while there was still something of its shadow between the two of them, they managed to avoid the topic. And life felt…normal, or close to it, despite being trapped in the clutches of constant radioactive blizzards. Whatever it was that had changed between them, they had adapted. Things felt good between them again; comfortable and close, like it'd been all autumn as they traveled the Commonwealth.
But as the stretches of darkness grew and the snows piled higher, Nora felt a growing unease. As the season wore on, she felt more and more isolated, no matter what company she kept. There was so much she needed to be out there doing, and here she was stuck in an out of the way settlement, whiling away the majority of her days reading up on now irrelevant laws. She felt like she was adrift on open waters, whether the ocean was a green storm so dark it was almost black, or a dazzling expanse of white; either way, she was cast loose without a mooring or a shore in sight. It was intensely frustrating, unable to act in any meaningful way; and it was the true source of Nora’s quiet impatience with the constant storms. She needed something to do - anything at this point, as long as it got her out of Sanctuary for a day, a few hours, at the least. Without something meaningful to a occupy her, Nora felt she might not be able to take the endless howling for much longer.
* * *
A few more steps, nearly breathless in the frigid air, and Abernathy Farm hove into view, laid out before them and as picturesque as could be from the small rise. Nick paused at the top, catching back his breath and turning to lend a hand to Nora as she struggled through the snow, even with the path he’s forged. She took it graciously, using the leverage to haul herself up in one last step. Once beside him, she tugged down her scarf from her nose and mouth to better pull in the air. They took in the sight for a moment, then Nora shook her head and let out a small sigh. “Jesus.” She lifted a hand to shield her eyes from the sun’s glare. “You can see the damage from here.”
Nick grunted in agreement, folding his arms against the cold. An entire corner of the tower that made up the main building of Abernathy Farm had been shattered, looking for all the world as if a giant had stepped on it. More likely, yesterday’s storm had picked up something heavy and smashed into a weak point in the corner, tearing open a hole and letting the winds widen it.
Nick took in the view for a moment more, then said, “It looks pretty bad from here doll, I agree; but it's probably not as dire as appearances would have you believe.”
Nora shot him a look that was half skepticism, half hope. “You really think so?”
He huffed out a quiet chuckle. “Trust me; when you've worked as Diamond City’s main handyman for a good twenty years, you start to figure a few things out.” Nick gestured at the damage. “Whatever it was that tore through there, it doesn't look like it hit anything load bearing. Should be just a patch job; easy enough, provided they've got the materials.” He quirked up his mouth at Nora. “I suspect we're just here to do the heavy lifting.”
Nora smiled back at him, all chapped lips and flushed cheeks, and he practically felt his heart stutter. “That doesn't sound too bad.” She looked out over the farm again. “Which is a relief. I'll admit, what with Lucy coming over first thing this morning, I was a bit worried. I mean, she looked worried; but I suppose she was just in a hurry.”
Nick frowned. He'd made the exact same assumption as Nora, now that she brought it up. Lucy Abernathy had been a tad vague on the details when she had blown through Sanctuary that morning. She had seemed worried when she asked Nora for help, citing storm damage at the farm before rushing off to catch up to Trashcan Carla, who'd left Sanctuary last night as soon as the storm had dissipated - although, why she was chasing after the trader, she hadn't said. Nick supposed Nora might be right. They could have misinterpreted Lucy’s hurry as more worry than the situation actually warranted. But something about it didn't sit right.
Nick was pulled from his stray thoughts by the sight of a lone figure on the porch waving to them. Nora nudged Nick and waved back, saying, “I think that must be Blake.” She glanced at him, adding, “And stop worrying. He and his family are good people.”
She started down the low hill toward the boundary fence of the farm, Nick lagging behind her for a few moments. He believed her; he really did, but he'd had too many folks turn him and any help he offered away once they clapped eyes on his mug. It was one of the realities he'd become used to out here, every chance meeting and encounter a coin toss between some degree of reluctant tolerance or outright hatred. All the time that he and Nora had traveled together, and they'd only talked to people who'd already met him, or who were already trying to kill them. He wasn't sure how she would take it if this ended badly; but there was no point in postponing the inevitable. He made his way down after her, catching up in a few long strides.
As they got closer, the figure resolved into what was indeed Blake Abernathy, who stepped off the porch and waded through the snow to meet them at the gate. Once they were within speaking distance, he tipped his hat at Nora. “Nice to see you again, dearie, as always. Wish the circumstances were more on the pleasant side, but that can't be helped.” He turned to Nick and held out his handsome shake, peering under the fedora. “And I don't believe we've -” He stopped quite suddenly, his eyebrows furrowing, and Nick braced himself for the usual reaction to his glowing eyes and torn-up excuse of a face. But just as abruptly as Blake had stopped himself, he burst into a sunny, if incredulous, smile. “Mister Valentine?” He grabbed Nick’s hand and shook it earnestly, Nick thanking whatever lucky stars he had that he'd thought to wear gloves today. “It is you. I didn't recognize you at all without the detective get-up. You haven't ditched it altogether, I hope?”
Nick returned Nora's sidelong glance, shaking his head minutely at her unspoken question while he answered Blake’s aloud. “Only for the winter. I've got to keep the cold out, same as the rest of you.”
Blake chuckled warmly. “That's good to hear. Although,” he said, eyeing Nick’s current coat, “if I remember rightly, your usual one was becoming more patch than coat the last time I glimpsed it. You may want to consider changing over.” He smiled wryly at that, sticking his bare hands into his own coat pockets. “I heard you were out at Sanctuary for the winter, but I didn't think you’d come aboard to help with our construction problem.”
Nick tried collecting himself well enough to answer. “Well, we heard you had a spot of damage…and…” He trailed off, then shook his head. “I'm sorry to be blunt, Mr. Abernathy, but have we met before?”
Blake rubbed the back of his neck, looking slightly abashed. “Sorry. I should've known you wouldn’t remember me. We met once, in passing, in the Marketplace in Diamond City.” He shrugged and offered a small smile. “I see you every now and then, on the rare occasion I get out to the City, and we hear stories when traders come through, that's all.”
It was Nick's turn to feel embarrassed. “I guess I should be the one apologizing now. You just...threw me off for a second there.” He aimed a quick glance at Nora, and thank God, the woman could take a hint.
She shifted forward, the slight step just enough to draw Blake’s attention to her. “Lucy told us you needed help with repairs?”
Blake’s face immediately took on a more serious cast. “We sure do. I'm not the sort of fellow to ask for help, but…” He gestured at the corner of the building. “As you can see, it's not exactly a leaking roof.”
Nick huffed out a laugh. “Only in the barest sense of the words.”
Blake’s eyes crinkled with mirth. “Well, like all leaks, it's fixable.” He waved for them to follow and began trudging through the snow towards the damage. “And I've got plenty of material stowed away; Connie and I just need help with -” He paused to glance at them, then shook his head. “Well, you'll see.”
They rounded the corner, and Nick let out a low whistle. Behind him, he heard Nora mutter something along the lines of “Damn lucky”.
Nick had been right; the damage wasn't as bad as it looked. For all the shattered wood and gaping hole, nothing had been damaged that impugned on the integrity of the structure. But he could immediately see why Blake had sent over Lucy for help.
Nora turned to the two of them with an arched eyebrow. “A tree? A tree did this?”
Nick folded his arms and chanced a small grin at her almost befuddled expression. “Well, unless you see another culprit laying around, I think it's probably safe to assume so.”
Her face softened even as she mock-glared at him. “Very funny, Mister Detective.” She looked back at the tree lounging in the midst of the damage, and a note of concern crept into her voice. “I just wasn't aware that this kind of thing happened regularly.”
Blake chimed in. “It actually doesn't, thank heavens.” He shook his head again. “Damndest thing, isn't it? Going on twenty years Connie and I have been living out here, and we’ve never had this kind of problem.”
Nora stuck her hands in her pockets, still looking a tad worried. “I didn't realize the winds were this strong though.”
Nick coughed softly. “If I had to hazard a guess, they weren't. Not strong enough to uproot a tree anyhow, if that's what you were thinking.” He pointed out a couple sections. “See how it started coming apart when it impacted the building? I'd say this tree had already started rotting, which means that it was likely fallen over before the storm came. And it looks decently young, too.” Nick eyed Blake. “You're lucky it wasn't any larger. This could've been a lot worse.”
Blake nodded seriously. “And don't I know it. Thought the world was ending all over again when it came crashing through.” He stared at the wreck for a moment, then pulled himself out of the momentary daze. “In any case, we mostly just need extra hands to haul this thing out of the way so we can fix this mess before the next storm hits.”
Nick and Nora exchanged a quick look. “Not to pry or anything, but if that's the case,” Nora said slowly, “then shouldn't Lucy be here too?” She looked around, as if noticing something for the first time. “And for that matter, where's Connie?”
Blake’s brow furrowed. “Don't worry about them, they've-” he stopped himself and seemed to consider something; after a moment though, he shook his head. “They're dealing with something else.”
Nick kept an eye on Nora, waiting to see if she pushed it. She seemed to be chewing on her tongue to keep the questions in, but she dropped it. Probably for the best, too; Nick was as curious as the next fella, but it was obvious Blake didn't want to discuss whatever was going on. He'd already come to them practically hat in hand, and it was difficult for a man as proud as Abernathy seemed to be to ask for more help before they'd even started the first job.
Nick tugged at his gloves, adjusting the right one so it didn't slip off while they worked. “Well alright then. Who’s ready to haul a tree?”
* * *
A familiar bark pulled Nora’s attention away from their work, and she squinted into the glaring afternoon sun to see Preston and Dogmeat coming down the rise. She waved quickly, then turned and hammered in the nail she’d had poised. Once done, she clambered down the rickety ladder, careful not to slip in the loose snow at the bottom.
Dogmeat bounded over, tail waving through the air like a flag, and jumped up at her, all hot tongue and wet nose. Before she could even fight him off properly, he sprang away and leapt at Nick instead, nearly bowling him over. Nick fared about the same as she had, and he barely got out a “Now look here boy,” when Dogmeat finished and pranced over to Blake, who had just come around the corner to see what the commotion was.
“Is this your mutt?” He had a bit of a smile tugging at his mouth as he said it; Dogmeat in turn sat down politely, letting him scratch behind the ears before he jumped up again to trot back over to Nora.
She sighed, grinning, and answered. “Yeah, he's mine. Much good that he does me.” Dogmeat gave her a mournful look, and she rolled her eyes back at him. “I'm kidding, sweetie. You're a wonderful dog, aren't you? Always a good boy, even when you aren't.” Dogmeat wagged even harder, catching bits of snow with his tail and flinging it out to either side, and pressed himself against her leg.
Blake crossed his arms and sighed wistfully. “What I wouldn't give for a dog like that.”
Nick finished brushing mud and snow off the front of his coat and piped up. “I heard a while back that there was a man selling dogs somewhere around these parts. Damned if I heard his name though, or even where he lives.”
Blake smiled ruefully. “I've heard the same rumors. Put the word out with some of the traders that I was looking to buy, but nothing's come of it so far. Guess we’ll just have to make do.”
Preston finally reached them at that point, slightly out of breath. Nora grinned at him in greeting. “Glad you made it over Preston, but I think you've managed to miss all the action.”
He cast an appreciative eye over the remains of the tree they’d spent most of the morning pulling out of the house, piled up with the remains of the wall it had destroyed. “Missed the action is right, ma’am. Looks like you've got a lot done.”
She glanced at the walls they’d thrown up, the sheet metal shiny against the mostly wood building. “Yeah, I think we’ve done a pretty decent job. Not that I can really take credit for it.” She looked back at Preston and crooked a smile. “Nick and Blake here get all the props. I just did what they told me.”
At the mention of his name, Blake came forward and shook Preston’s hand. “It's good to see you again, Garvey. You and Nora have done a real bang-up job getting the Minutemen back on their feet.”
Preston shook his head. “I'm glad you think so, sir, but we’ve only just started getting the word out to settlements. We've got a long way to go before the Minutemen are anything like they were in the old days.”
Blake patted Preston on the shoulder. “Don't worry son. You'll get there, even if it feels like every step takes an eternity. No matter how small, the good you two do,” he paused and looked at Nora seriously. “It means a hell of a lot, you hear?” He clapped Preston on the arm again and started off around the building. “I'll be back in a bit; just gotta lend a hand to the missus.”
Dogmeat pushed off of her leg and started wandering over the fields, sniffing idly at the ground. Nora nodded in his direction. “How’s Dogmeat been treating you?”
Preston chuckled, tugging at the strap holding his rifle over his shoulder. “Decently well. He's been putting me through my paces though. Sometimes it's hard to know who’s leading who around here.” He shrugged, smiling. “Not that I mind. He's a better partner than a lot I've worked with in the past.”
Nora laughed at his description. “That he is. Although,” she arched an eyebrow at Preston teasingly. “I feel as if I ought to be getting a bit jealous. He seems to have taken a real liking to you.”
“Well, I wouldn't worry too much. That dog seems awful attached to you, General. And he's certainly got a mind of his own; I doubt he'll be going anywhere soon.” Preston tugged at his rifle strap again and nodded towards the remains of the tree. “So it looks like you two had a heck of a job to keep yourselves busy today. I'm surprised Lucy went chasing after Carla instead of staying to help.” He looked between them, confused as she and Nick exchanged knowing glances. Nora felt a small shift in her chest. It wasn't just them; something was off. “What'd I say?”
Nick answered. “Nothing, nothing. That just seems to be the question of the day, is all.” He pulled his battered silver lighter from a pocket and began patting down his coat for a cigarette. “That, and what Connie’s been dealing with all day that's kept her from helping out with the damage to her own house.” Upon finding a cigarette, he flicked open the lighter and lit it in the smooth motions of a man who’d been doing it for the last 200 years. Nick tucked away his lighter and offered it to her. Nora relented after a moment, and took a small drag, hoping the nicotine would cut away at the exhaustion from the day’s work. She offered it back to Nick, who continued. “Whatever this is, it's got them worried. I'd normally press the issue a bit more, but…” He shrugged. “Abernathy seems to be the sort who wouldn't take well to it. Better to let him come to the table of his own accord.”
Preston nodded slowly, looking worried but resigned. “You're probably right. I've gotten to know Blake over the past few months, and he's a stubborn one. He’ll ask for help only when he’s good and ready. Frankly, I'm surprised he even asked for help with this.”
Nick looked like he was mulling something over, but he answered Preston absentmindedly anyway. “So am I, but it was a bigger job than most; it's not unreasonable to think he just needed some extra hands.” He took a long drag, then looked up at Preston curiously. “Say, did you happen to see any sign of Lucy on your way over? From the way Abernathy was talking earlier, I expected her to be back hours ago.”
Preston eyed Nick with something close to surprise. “I did, actually. I ran into her at the Red Rocket station on my way over. She must've gotten what she needed, because she to be in a bit more of a hurry than usual.” He shifted his weight, scuffing at the ground with a boot. “I chalked it up to her wanting to get back here, but there might've been more to it, now that I think back. We walked over together, but she outstripped me just before we got to the hill.”
Nick made a low noise in his throat and considered the ground, cigarette dangling idly in his gloved fingers. Nora, not sure where he was going with the questions, turned her attention back to Garvey. “You mean to tell me a teen girl outstripped you? How fast was she going?”
Preston bore out under her teasing with his usual good grace. “I think it's more a question of how slow I was going, Ma’am, thanks to a certain dog that kept getting distracted. I don't know what got into him, to be honest. But I guess it doesn't matter. We got here in good time, despite the minor detour.”
Nora was about to answer when Nick piped up again, still sounding somewhat distracted. “Preston, did it seem like she-”
Nick was cut off by the sound of shouting. They all turned, looking past the building, where the sound seemed to emanate. After the briefest of moments, Nick was the first to break into action, stamping his cigarette into the snow and taking off at a sprint around the building. Nora and Preston followed, trying to keep up with Nick’s long stride.
As they rounded the corner, the shouting rang out clearer in the cold air, coming from the small barn that the Abernathy’s kept for their Brahmin. Nick was tugging at his coat as he ran, opening it so he had better access to his hand cannon. Nora caught her fingers on the button of her thigh holster, cursing that she had left her rifle in the Abernathy’s kitchen while they worked. Preston overtook her as Nick reached the barn doors and ducked in, kicking it open a little farther as he passed through. She and Preston weren't far behind, and she put on extra speed when she came close enough to hear a familiar low growl.
Nora wasn't quite sure what she was expecting as she burst into the barn on Preston’s heels, but it wasn't the scene that awaited her. The Abernathy’s three Brahmin looked to have been huddled together on the ground, judging by the disturbed blankets; however, two of them had charged off into the far corner, lowing continuously, their eyes rolling nervously. The third remained on the ground making quieter noises, but giving no indication of going anywhere. Connie Abernathy knelt next to it, one hand making soothing motions on its mottled hide as she glared up at her daughter. Lucy was squared off between her father and Dogmeat, who was keeping a rumbling growl, and for good reason; clutched in Lucy’s hand was a beaten old pipe gun, that, though not pointed right at Dogmeat, was still aimed in his general direction. Nora didn't hear what Blake had said to her, but she caught the tail end of Lucy’s response. “...don't care Dad, it needs to get out of here, now.”
Blake looked relieved when Nora came charging in. “Thank goodness. Nora, can you call off your dog?”
Nora felt a small fire kindling in her chest, hot and angry. “I'll call him off when your daughter stops aiming a gun at him.” She turned her glare onto Lucy, who almost immediately lowered the gun, a guilty expression stealing over her. Nora felt herself relax as she put it away; without a word from her, Dogmeat uncoiled as well, hackles and fur lowering as the growling ceased. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Nick pull his hand back out of his coat and readjust it casually, fiddling with his right hand glove. Even the Brahmin in the corner seemed to feel the tension leave the room, their lowing becoming less urgent.
Nora turned back to Blake. “Anyone care to explain what's going on here?” Blake crossed his arms and glared at Lucy, who was acquiring a ruddy look to her cheeks as everyone's attention became directed at her. She met Nora’s eyes though, as she said, “I'm sorry for all the confusion, Miss Nora. I just - I was tending to Annie, and my Dad came to talk to us, and he must've left the door open, because then I saw your dog come through the door. Annie saw him and started panicking, and then I thought he was a wild dog, so I pulled out my gun and…he was growling and it was scaring the Brahmin and...” She finally dropped her gaze to the floor, rubbing at her forearm sheepishly. Her next words were quiet. “I'm sorry I almost shot your dog, ma’am.”
Apparently satisfied with his daughter’s apology, Blake offered his own. “I am sorry about that, Nora. I'm glad you got here when you did. I wasn't sure if that dog of yours had gotten offended and decided to take a bite out of someone. He looked ready to pounce.”
Nora bristled a bit at that. “Yeah, that tends to be his reaction when people threaten him for no reason. He's a smart dog.” Upon hearing the praise, Dogmeat wagged happily, oblivious now to the context as his tail thumped steadily on the ground.
Blake had the decency to look thoroughly embarrassed. “Like I said, I'm sorry. Anything I can do for you, just name it. It's the least I can offer; especially after you helped me all day, just to have this mix-up happen.”
Nora was about to politely wave off his offer when Nick spoke from her side. “Actually, you could start by clueing us in on what's going on here.” His voice was low and firm; it was the one he used on prospective clients, or when he wasn't sure of the situation. It was the one he had used on her, months ago at the start of all this. It was the voice that told you to start at the beginning, and leave nothing out.
Unexpectedly, it was Connie who answered the question, while her husband was still in the mental throes of debating how to answer. “The brahmin are sick.” She looked up from where she knelt, her face earnest. The simple statement said almost nothing, but covered everything Nora needed to know about how important this was. It was all in the woman’s voice.
“How sick?” Preston asked from behind her.
Connie kept her eyes on Nora as she answered. “Very sick.” She nodded at the Brahmin by her side. “I don't think Lenna here is going to last the night.”
Lucy added, “And the other two aren't doing well either. They might seem ok right now, but that's just cause they're scared. They're just like Lenna was a couple days ago.”
Nora took in the pale faces of the Abernathy family and felt a growing suspicion. “So...just how bad is this?”
Blake looked a little askance at the question, and Preston leaned in to explain. “You're not from...around here, so it may not seem like a lot, but trust me: it's bad. If they lose all three of their Brahmin at once, they lose everything.”
“We trade milk and cheese to the traders when they pass through. Their manure helps keep the soil in growing conditions. And if things get bad, we can slaughter one for food in the winter.” Connie shook her head. “It's taken us fourteen years to get to where we are. If we lose them -” her voice caught, and she shook her head again. “Without them, we’ll have to start from almost nothing.”
“And they'll have nothing to fall back on if times get tough.” Preston added. “It's pretty bad.”
“So this is what you've been avoiding talking about all day.” Nick said. He was considering the family thoughtfully from under his fedora. “Why you didn't bring out the brahmin to help move the tree, like most folks would. And that's what you sent Lucy out for.”
As Blake nodded, Nora frowned. “Am I missing something here?”
“I went after Carla to see if she had any dried bloodleaf,” Lucy said. “It was a bit of a long shot, but she usually has it.” She nodded at the bucket next to Connie, which Nora belatedly noticed had a reddish tinge to the water. “Guess we got lucky.”
Connie winced. “Don't know if we’re lucky yet, dear. Even if it works, it still might be too late for Lenna.”
Nora shook her head. “I still don't understand.”
“Bloodleaf’s a powerful painkiller and sedative in its own right; mix it together with hubflower, and it'll fight off most infections and fevers, if you're lucky enough to be granted time.” Nick looked up at her. “Works better fresh but, well.” He gestured out the door. “Not really the season for it.”
He tapped his fingers against his thigh in a soft cadence. It was a moment before he spoke again. “Do you know what it is?”
Connie answered. “We have no idea. They haven't been attacked by anything, as far as we know. They certainly don't have any bite or claw marks that could've gotten infected. And their grain is the same stock we eat from, so it's not that.”
Blake and Connie shared a long look. With a polite cough, Blake began, “Look, folks, I know I have no right to ask anything from you. I'm sure you've got your own troubles, but if you could…” He trailed off and looked down, rubbing his palms a bit nervously against his pants. “I admit, I'm a proud man. Like I told you this morning, I don't like asking for help, but I'm not too proud to recognize when I need it.” He looked up at Nora, his gaze earnest. “So I'm asking for your help, ma’am; anything you can do would be a blessing.”
Nick made a rough humming noise in the back of his throat, almost as if he was pleased with himself for figuring out the puzzle. “So, a mysterious illness, with no clear cause.” He eyed the Brahmin. “And a time limit to find, what?” Nick looked over at Blake. “Either something to help, or the cause of it?” When Blake nodded, he switched his gaze back to the unfortunate Lenna. “Well, what do you think, doll?”
It took her a moment to realize he was addressing her. Nora looked over at Nick, golden eyes caught in a thoughtful expression. She could feel the anticipation bubbling up in her chest. Something to do, finally. A chance to be useful, to do something meaningful. She crooked a small smile at Nick when his eyes met hers. From the set of his shoulders, the crinkles at the edge of his eyes, she could tell he felt the same. “Looks like we’ve got ourselves a case.”