Leta
At three in the afternoon, the shop was blessedly empty. They wouldn't have a new client until five, and then Leta would get to clock out and go home early. Cyrus, shameless bastard, was already passed out snoring on the couch Leta did her Delving on, his mouth hanging open unattractively and drooling all over his chin. Snickering, Leta and Miss Talia had taken about three hundred pictures each, including multiple selfies with Cyrus as the background scenery.
With a ding, the wire transfer from the Bellange job came through, and Miss Talia squealed over the two hundred credits they'd made. The shop wasn't ever busy, but each job brought enough money to eat.
Unfortunate that Delver equipment upkeep was so expensive. The shop was already cutting costs by only having Leta as their one Delver, but just the electricity bill for the computer Cyrus manned was sky-high.
Also, Leta was fairly sure Cyrus was skimming off the top, but neither she nor Miss Talia cared enough about four credits a month to truly get on his ass for it. Miss Talia's cat, Pumpkin, meowed loudly from the back room she was confined to during working hours.
Leta cooed at Pumpkin and let her climb all over her lap. Pumpkin was a truly gorgeous cat, she mused to herself, and was the only reason she still worked at the god-awful fortune shop.
Maybe pawning the watch that Aurelie Bellange had left behind would bring enough money for the cake she'd promised Aren, Leta thought. She'd been quick to say it last night, but the cakes in Sector One were expensive, worth hundreds of credits each. After today's job, Leta only had four hundred credits in her wallet, and she'd still have to pay this month's electricity and water bill.
On paper, Peter Prairie's Bookshop was owned by Leta's uncle Peter, except that Uncle Peter didn't exist and she'd forged ownership papers. In truth, it had been owned by an old man in his nineties who'd had zero customers except for Leta, and he'd died suddenly one day. Feeling bad, Leta had Delved through his memories only to find that he had no wife or children and no family members who cared about him, so, feeling guilty, she'd commandeered the attic for herself and Aren.
"You'd think after so long living together Aren would start to look like you, maybe," Miss Talia said, yawning as she pet Pumpkin lazily. "Still, though. She couldn't pass for your blood sister if the Examiner was blind." She gestured at Leta's look. "You look like a vampire hooker. Ditch the tight clothes and dye your hair a lighter colour or something."
"She doesn't need to be my blood sister," Leta said, ignoring Miss Talia's shoddy excuse for fashion advice. "When have you ever seen sisters with a ten year age gap? I'll say she's my little cousin."
"You're lucky your ex works in the Exam offices," Miss Talia snapped, pointing her finger at her. "Still, though, the two of you broke up for a reason! I still don't think you should trust him with something as important as Aren's future. If he reports you, it's over for both of you!"
"I know," Leta said, groaning. "How else am I going to get Aren into the Exams? She's got no papers. It's a risk worth taking."
"You're too soft," Miss Talia sighed. "I miss the Leta that punched me in the face when I tried to give you a job."
Leta rolled her eyes. Miss Talia had seen her loitering around the streets of Sector Three, clearly about to try and rob someone, and given her a stern talking-to. Then she'd tried to "get her on the right track" by offering her employment at her fortune shop, and Leta had been so shocked by her sheer audacity that she'd automatically decked her. To this day, Miss Talia still had a slightly crooked nose, though she insisted it didn't take away from her "breathtaking beauty".
"Yelling and hitting doesn't work on Aren," Leta sighed. "Trust me, I tried."
She'd picked Aren up off the streets of Sector Six about three years ago. Aren had tried to steal her wallet then got distracted by discarded bread in an alleyway and ducked inside to eat it off the ground. Leta had kicked her over onto her side and dragged her, kicking and screaming, to the Peacemaker station.
The Peacemaker in the Sector Seven station had worn a salacious look on his face, staring at a defiant and young Aren, then Leta had decided it wasn't worth it to put this skinny brat in jail and hauled the girl right back out. Ever since then, Aren had decided Leta was worth following her around, despite how many times Leta had smacked her and told her to leave her alone. Eventually she gave up and let her stay.
Aren never talked about why she'd been on the street but knew how to read and write. Leta never asked, considering she'd also been on the street knowing how to read and write.
As Aren grew slightly older from the runt of a fifteen-year-old she'd been and started to get some meat on her bones, so too did her features grow ever-familiar. She had the long, thick red hair characteristic of a certain prestigious winery family in Sector Two, and her delicately pretty face spoke of an aristocratic background. Leta hadn't made her dye her hair black or brown, since it visibly made Aren sad, but she'd always instructed the girl to only leave the attic if she was wearing a mask and a hood. Just another street rat, not a possible noble runaway.
No papers meant it was impossible for Aren to legally take the National Exams, which would guarantee anyone who passed a ticket to a university without even needing to apply through the usual channels: not for the first time Leta cursed that Central City was so strict on application material. She'd had to ply her ex with sweet words and promises of a few good nights in order to get him to agree to smuggle Aren in- and she knew what a bastard he was. It was entirely possible he'd fuck them over, and Leta had no safety net. But the Exams were only held every five years to encourage people to apply to university normally (not an option for Aren, who no longer had a legal identity). If they missed this chance, Leta would have to watch Aren spend her youth cooped up in a tiny attic like Leta herself had.
"I'm not going to let her waste away her best years like I did," Leta said, yawning. " 'Sides, she's much smarter than I was at her age."
"You talk like an old lady already," Miss Talia said, rolling her eyes. "You're only a quarter through life. Stop pretending like you're sixty."
"Can't you let me be melodramatic in peace," Leta complained loudly, hoping she'd wake Cyrus up and then get to make fun of him. "Damn slave driver."
"Say that again, I dare you!" Miss Talia exclaimed. She held Pumpkin up like a weapon of mass destruction. "I'll fire you and you'll never get to see Pumpkin again!"
"The shock, the horror," Leta drawled. "Though Pumpkin would be a dear loss."
"Can the two of you shut the fuck up," Cyrus groaned, a hand over his face as he blinked awake. "A man can't even take a nap in peace?"
"You shut up!" Miss Talia barked. "All you do is sleep! I don't know what I pay you for!" To prove her loyalties and keep her job, Leta cooperated by taking off one of her heels and throwing it at Cyrus. With his hand covering his eyes, he couldn't see the shoe coming and yelped when Leta's five-year-old stiletto hit him in the face.
"Ow!" He complained, stumbling off the couch and nearly impaling himself on the old broom leaned against the desk. "Leta, you bitch!"
Shrugging, she reached over and extracted her shoe. "Serves you right."
With Cyrus' loud complaining in the background, Leta hardly noticed her phone dinging. Frowning, she reached over and checked her messages- it was Aren texting her. Aren rarely contacted her at work, instead always preferring to stay up in the attic and study since she never wanted to bother her.
3:57pm
Aren: Miss Leta, are you busy right now?
Leta: whats up
Aren: I think someone's at the bookshop.
Leta sat up straighter in alarm. No one ever visited the bookshop, not to buy and not to examine. She always paid the property tax with the Peacemaker station, careful to keep on top of her ownership documents. And who in their right mind would want to buy a book from a clearly decrepit store anyway?
Leta: what?
Aren: I heard knocking downstairs, so I went out on the roof to check
Aren: Don't worry, I kept my hood on!
Leta: who was it
Aren: I couldn't see much but it's a man. Tall, I think. He's wearing navy blue. I'm back in the attic now.
Leta: dont go anywhere im coming back
Leta: wait and stay
Aren: Miss Leta, do you know who it is?
Leta: no
"Miss Talia, I have to go back for a second," Leta said, grabbing her purse off the back of the chair in a hurry. Cyrus stopped loudly complaining and peered up at her from his seat at the desk. "There's someone at the bookshop and I don't know who it is."
"What's going on?" He asked, his brow twisted. "No one ever goes to that shitty store of yours."
"Exactly," Leta hissed, hurrying to the door. "Someone might've come looking for Aren or I. I have to go check."
"Wait," Cyrus said, stumbling to his feet. "I'll come with you. Safer in numbers."
Miss Talia nodded, looking serious. "Stay in touch, yeah? Come back soon and bring Aren if you have to."
"Okay," Leta said, not even registering half of what they'd said and already halfway outside. "Sure."
She and Cyrus sprinted down the walkways to the old shopping street where the bookstore was. As much of an idiot as he was, Cyrus was still dependable when she needed him to be, not to mention he was damn good in a fight.
"Wait," Cyrus panted. "How could anyone find Aren? She never leaves without a mask, and barely even that."
"No idea," Leta grunted. "They might even be after me." She could feel Cyrus' heavy stare, but didn't elaborate- neither he nor Miss Talia knew her past, and not even Aren did. She intended to keep it that way.
As they approached the street the bookstore was on, Cyrus grabbed her wrist and pulled her into a side alley. She stuck her head out from behind the wall carefully, squinting to catch a glance at whoever was in front of the bookstore, and pulled out her phone.
4:06pm
Leta: im here
Leta: w cyrus too
Leta: where are u
Aren: I'm still in the attic
Aren: Can you see him, Miss Leta?
Leta frowned. The street was fairly crowded in the afternoon- she could just barely make out the figure of a tall man wearing navy blue standing curiously in front of the bookstore. Her chest went cold- he was wearing a navy uniform and cape, complete with a familiar gold-lined cap. A Peacemaker captain, and a high-ranking one at that.
"He's alone," Cyrus hissed. "He's not here on official business, they always travel in twos. Maybe he's really here to buy a book."
The man rapped on the door once, twice. He tried to peer through the windows into the bookstore, then turned and left. Leta felt the tension in her chest unwind a little.
"Be careful," she whispered. "He might not have left. We'll go through the back." She turned and made her way through the alleys to the fire escape on the cards parlour next to the bookstore, hoisting herself up with Cyrus' help around the back of the store up to the sector of roof tiles jutting out. Careful to stay low, she and Cyrus inched their way across the roof of the store and she unlocked the ceiling skylight. Aren was already there to help them open the skylight and let them in.
"Miss Leta," she said urgently. "Did he leave?"
"Yup," Cyrus said, dusting his hands off. "He was probably just trying to buy a book. You did good though, staying careful." Aren beamed as he ruffled her hair. "Thanks, Mister Cyrus!"
Leta sighed, the adrenaline draining out of her system. "Okay. Fun's over. Did you eat?"
Aren shook her head. "Well, I had breakfast." She gestured to an empty packet of bread in their trash can. "Not anything since, though."
Leta held out a protein bar she'd filched from Miss Talia's snack drawer that day. "Here, eat something, you're getting too thin. I'll be back with dinner, but you stay here for the rest of the day to be safe, yeah? Cyrus, let's go."
The two of them braved exiting through the front door, and Leta checked the locks twice. She was deep in thought their entire short walk back to the fortune shop, though: what kind of person trying to buy books would choose such an obviously closed store, and stay in front for ten minutes?
"Cheer up," Cyrus said, nudging her in the side. "You and Aren will be fine."
Leta rolled her eyes. "Whatever. Let's just get back." The two of them arrived back at the fortune shop and pushed open the door.
"We're back, Miss Talia!" Cyrus called as they entered. Miss Talia looked up from where she was sitting at the receptionist's desk, smiling her customer service smile.
"Welcome back, you two!" She said in her fake polite tone. "We received a client while you were out!"
Cyrus might've said something polite or nice to greet the client, but Leta was too busy staring in horror, her blood run cold. Sitting in the chair in front of Miss Talia's desk was the Peacemaker captain from in front of the bookstore, smiling gently at her.
"You're a hard person to find, Leta Agaricia," he said, folding his gloved hands over each other in his lap. "Let's talk business."