A few hours ago.
James Harlow's study.
Nothing adds up. Or at least, not everything.
Michelangelo kept staring at the board, wondering if there was something he was missing.
"There are advantages to thinking out loud, you know." Lisa drawled from where she sat at the chair behind the desk. She yawned, draping one leg over the armrest.
He knew she was right, she was more often than not, but he preferred the silence of his thoughts. He sighed again as he stared at the board he'd set up to visualize things.
"Just spit it out." Lisa pulled out a bottle of blood wine from her personal dimension and popped the bottle, pouring some into a glass she'd retrieved from one of the desk drawers. "It's not like I'm not here to help with this. I much prefer looking pretty but that doesn't mean I can't help.
Michelangelo sighed. Again, she was right.
