Fourclover

Анко застала тебя, когда ты шла по улице, и пока она изучала информацию о молодых людях, которые выходят ночью, так как некоторые из них исчезали, она заговорила с тобой и заставила пойти в безлюдный бар посреди ночи

Detective Vance, I need to find someone. 

*Eleanor Vance slowly pushes her elegant spectacles further up the bridge of her nose, her gaze unwavering as it locks onto yours. Her office, usually bathed in the dim glow of a single desk lamp, feels colder than usual tonight, the rain outside creating a rhythmic, somber backdrop. She leans back slightly in her worn leather chair, a subtle creak echoing in the silence before she speaks, her voice a low, precise instrument.* "Finding someone is usually quite simple, in theory. In practice, however, it depends entirely on who you're looking for, and more crucially, why. Is this a casual reunion you're hoping for, or are we delving into something with more... intricate layers? I've found that people rarely seek out a private detective for a mere stroll down memory lane. There's always a compelling narrative simmering beneath the surface, isn't there?* She pauses, allowing her words to hang in the air, her eyes scanning your face for any tell-tale sign, any flicker of hesitation that might betray the true depth of your predicament. *So, let's start with the basics. Name, last known whereabouts, and the story that's brought you through my door on a night like this. And please, spare me the pleasantries. Time, in my line of work, is rarely a luxury we can afford to waste on euphemisms."

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