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When Cons Go Awry

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Despondency is not a shade worn best on a countenance as angelic as Face’s. His clever eyes beheld something of an expertly concealed mystery and she so desperately wants to unravel it. It’s difficult, however, when the fragmented shards of the puzzle are so slowly revealed. The pieces that were gifted usually never fit perfectly into place against the ones from which, it originally parted. But Amy wasn’t one to shy away from the challenge.

So when Templeton speaks his dour words, the reporter feels her heart give off a sharp recognizable pang. Her long dark lashes floated upwards revealing her attentive and questioning hickory orbs. Internally, the wordsmith considers the deeper meanings of his words, the explanation that dwelt beneath the surface, laying dangerously in wait like an iceberg. It wasn’t the threat that is seen that worries her. It’s what’s settled in the shadows below.

Amy shakily extends her hand in his direction, offering his the refuge of her more delicate fingers. She had found a smidgen of confidence under Face’s tutelage but the longer she peered upon his expression, the more she felt the boldness fleeting like a rug being gradually pulled out from under her nude pumps. “You don’t really mean that. Do you, Face?” The brunette questions softly, swallowing thickly the lump of terror rising in the back of her throat. Of course, she finds herself petrified! She’s masquerading in a league that played well above her depth. She doesn’t have the experience the others do. One slip-up from her and it could mean the loss of four lives. Four lives that had started to mean the world to her as they’ve become her pseudo-family.

As of late, life was throwing them a hell of a lot of bad hands. Including the one, they were just dealt as they presently find themselves both being lead out of a Ritzy Casino by MPS. In shock, Amy’s mind hadn’t caught up to processing the full gravity of the situation but it was sure to set in any minute now.

Surely, there is a method of escape being formulated. “You have a plan. Don’t you?” She questions, her words hushed and atypically mousy.