Oᴄᴛᴏʙᴇʀ 14. 2024.
Once outside, she drinks in the fresher air than that of the crowded building. She pushes away from the gymnasium doorway and starts across the field, hoping to get to the furthest end where nobody will be able to hear her shout her frustrations. However, her phone vibrates in one of her back pockets.
"I took your heart. I did things to you only lovers would do in the dark." Digging her phone from its tight spot, she takes a good look at the caller's ID, then rolls her eyes, "I made you a—"
"Yes?" She answers after swiping up.
"You left without telling me. Is being close to me that bad?" Petro's Russian lisp emits from the speaker with a slight static edge.
"I have a home at which I can care for myself. I'm fine." She says.
He chuckles, "Okay, I understand, but..." He pauses briefly, "...there is something I'd like to inquire about."
Alessia's grasp tightens on the phone and she clenches her jaw, listening to how he slows his speech and lowers his voice.
"Two detectives showed up at my place yesterday afternoon." Two? Really? She wants to facepalm. With the information she has given, they should've stormed his place with the SWAT. Alessia doesn't know anything about how the police operates anyway, "They claimed it was just to look around for a bit. They said it was because of a tip they got." No shit Sherlock, a facepalm wouldn't do. She shakes her head roughly, imagining the whole LAPD diving off a cliff. "And, they found nothing." He laughs darkly.
"What are you inquiring? Surely you aren't suspecting me." Alessia states dryly after he dodged the point completely.
"Ah," he exclaims as if to remember something, "right. There was a run away."
So, this is his way of saying that he was undoubtedly suspecting her, until he recalled Katya Sharpe. Or maybe, he's suspecting both of them. Either way, she must remain neutral. Petro is rather Sharp for an old man.
"I want to know if you somehow got exposed or...?" He asks lightly, knowing that she had been messing up a lot lately.
She's quick to respond and flatly so, "Never."
"You mean, not that you know of?"
Why is he pushing it?
"Whatever." She scoffs. At this point, she just wanted to hang up.
Sighing, he tells her, "You are a very lucky girl, Alessia. They found nothing. Imagine if we got caught, you'd have to stop going to school and to into hiding instead. Your life would be ruined." Too bad he doesn't know that she has nothing to lose.
She begins to chortle, coiling over and holding her chest and abdomen. Petro listens, getting lost in an old memory of when she was little and she had creeped him out. He had forgotten then that Alessia wasn't perfectly hinged.
She's laughing at the mention of her own demise.
Alessia holds the speaker close to her lips and says, sweetly, "That's sad."