"You're really ok with this? I was only joking about going somewhere over the top fancy," Nevaeh asked again.

"I swear, it's fine." Esme repeated. Sure, the upscale restaurant had given her pause at first, but she'd always wanted to go, and this was as good a time as any. Her only regret was not dressing up enough for it. Business casual would have to do. At least she'd worn a good pair of heels that day.

The host signaled them forward and lead them to a table near the middle of the room. The white tablecloth draped over the edges of the circle table, hovering just above the floor. They took in their surroundings as they sat, eyes lingering on the tall arched windows along the side wall. The light streaming in warmed the place instead of making it a blinding white like it would in a hospital.

"At night they light the chandeliers, it's supposed to be beautiful," Nevaeh said. She gestured up at the crystal chandeliers glittering in the sunlight.

"It's already pretty beautiful, I can't imagine it getting better," Esme mused.

"We'll have to come back one night then so I can blow your mind." They took their menus, pouring over the appetizers and choosing a few to split. "You're not allergic to anything are you?"

"Just shellfish, but it's fairly mild," Esme answered. She nibbled at a piece of bread from the basket, still looking around.

"Are you trying to memorize everything?" Nevaeh teased. She laughed behind her hand when Esme shook her head hard enough to make her earrings smack her cheeks,

She hadn't been intentionally committing everything to memory, but she was acutely aware of so many minor details. The exits, the group at the back, the woman eating alone by the window, the gait of their waiter, and the ever-swinging door into the kitchen all formed the fleshed-out map forming in her mind. She could make it to the front door in under a minute if she jumped the table and slid under the velvet rope divider. It would be even faster if she kicked off her heels.

"I'm just admiring the décor," Esme lied smoothly. The lie felt both strange and somehow second nature to her.

"Must be the photographer in you. What made you want to do that anyway?" Nevaeh moved her napkin off the table to make room for the soup set in front of her. She swirled her spoon through the thick broth.

Esme shrugged, poking a fork at her mushroom tart. "I'm not really sure, I've just always been fascinated by how an image can say so much. I like narrowing the focus to get the perfect shot." She pressed her thumb and forefingers together to form a rectangle. The space between her fingers framed Nevaeh perfectly, cutting out most of the background to put her face in focus. Esme narrowed the space to a hole the size of a quarter over the other woman's chest. A straight shot. Her hands trembled for a second before she quickly shook them out and picked her fork back up. "Or something like that I guess."

"So, you like being able to control the narrative?" Nevaeh offered. "That's sort of similar to how I feel about design." She laughed at Esme's doubtful face. "You can tell just as much of a story with clothing as you can with a photo."

"That probably takes more skill than pointing and shooting," Esme sighed.

"You shouldn't sell yourself short, you're very good at what you do," Nevaeh took her hand from across the table. Her fingertips grazed Esme's wrist before she pulled away. "What did you do before you worked with us? More photography? I wouldn't mind seeing your non-fashion shots."

"Before the magazine... I was just a receptionist," Esme mumbled. She speared a piece of food and dragged it across the plate. Receptionist didn't sound right. There had been more to it, but she couldn't recall what exactly. "I did some photoshoots on the side, but they were nothing to write home about." An image of a man across a parking lot passed through her mind. His face was framed by a narrow circle, four small lines radiating from the center. A small target, but a good hit.

"I can't imagine you as just a receptionist," Nevaeh scoffed. "But that doesn't matter I guess, you're here now."

"I guess that was one good thing to come out of the accident." Esme chuckled. "It got my ass in gear, I realized I wouldn't get anywhere waiting for my life to happen." She'd heard her mother say those words to her so many times they almost felt like her own thoughts. She wasn't wrong, but Esme had never felt like she was waiting for her life to start. It felt more like she was trying to get away from it, or something in it.

"And you got some good friends out of it, I think. You and Easton seem... close," Nevaeh muttered. "Did you guys know each other before?"

"Easton? I hope not. He's more annoying than the cat," Esme groaned. Nevaeh looked relieved.

"You two seemed so close at the bar last night, I guess it was just my imagination." The waiter interrupted to set down their food.

Esme noticed the way he lingered just out of the way for a few minutes before returning to the kitchen. He stopped by the woman eating alone for a half a second, but it was long enough for them to exchange a nod. A thread of uneased pulled at her. Over the table, under the ropes and out. It would take no time at all. Her legs tensed and she leaned forward to-

"Esmerelda," Nevaeh called out.

"Huh?" Esme blinked, focusing on the concerned look Nevaeh was shooting her way. The sunlight bounced off her necklace, making Esme blink. "Did you say something?"

"I was asking about last night," she said. "What spooked you enough to make you run off like that?"

Esme opened her mouth, words to soothe the worry at the tip of her tongue. Nothing came out beyond a choked breath. She tried again. "I've been... seeing things. Not like that, I'm not crazy. I've been seeing people, like they're following me," she whispered. "There were these guys at the bar, and I swear I saw them again this morning."

"So they're following you?"

"Maybe I am crazy," Esme, groaned, squeezing her eyes shut behind her hands.

"You don't sound crazy," Nevaeh assured her. She smiled gently, holding a hand out.

Esme reached for it but froze when she happened to glance at the lone woman. She wasn't alone anymore, and this time she was sure that man was familiar.