Journal Entry 2: March 6th, 1923

I forgot what a hangover felt like. I didn't wake up until noon, but yet I still made it to work on time with a fresh cup of coffee already in my hand. Yet the others who stroll in late never have issues happen to them.

I sure do love working here.

Now as for my day today, I haven't really had much to do. Just signing off and finalizing the reports from months ago. All these cases that I did but never finalized because APPARENTLY I'm supposed to do all the paperwork. Yet all the other detectives and officers can just hand it off to other people.

I already knew everything was right since, well I'm the one who did it, but there was one that caught my eye.

A murder case.

A woman murdered her rich husband to collect the life insurance.

Pretty common, almost cliche even.

I stopped to look at the file, but then I felt something I had never felt before.

I felt doubt.

Doubt that the person was guilty, yet they had been locked in jail for nearly 3 months awaiting trial.

I quickly collected the file and put it in my top drawer, that way I could grab it when I left later. Normally I would take it and leave for the day, but that probably wouldn't look too great.

"Grace!"

The shouting of my superior officer made me jump, shutting the drawer on my own hand and quickly yelping, rushing to put everything back to normal.

I held my hand close and rubbed it as the drawer closed.

"You know, it's impolite to just walk into an office without knocking. What if I was changing?" I asked.

"Well if you were changing, I'd be silent so I could watch." The officer replied.

I rolled my eyes, wanting to throw up at that comment.

I get them every day, so many times. Yet every time it really makes my blood boil. None of the other assistants seem to care about them. Hell they love them more than anything despite them all being married. I guess some women just love the idea of cheating or affairs. Must get them off or something.

"Grace, hello? Are you having a girly dream thing?"

I snapped out of my inner monologue, staring at my superior officer while still clutching my hurting hand.

"No. I was just tuning out your annoying voice." I replied.

"Ha ha, very funny. Now, we have an assignment for you." He said, tossing a rather large binder onto my desk. Nearly a hundred papers flung out all over the wood as I looked at it all.

"What the hell is this?" I asked.

"A cult thing...I think. It was too many words for me to read so I thought I'd give it to you."

"Yeah...thanks." I replied sarcastically.

I grabbed the binder, but his hand snapped out to grab mine. I felt panicked and looked up at his face.

His awful smugness was gone. The super serious and masculine expression was gone.

His face was pure panic and horror, heavy and tired eyes with a face hanging low.

"Grace...you need to wake up...NOW!"

I pulled my hand back quickly, almost falling out of my chair from the shock. I quickly looked back at him, but he was back to normal.

"Are you...oh is this a time of the month thing?" The officer gave a disgusting laugh.

I was breathing hard and fast, unsure of what to do or say. I was clutching my hand tightly as I looked back down at the binder.

"Good luck Grace!"

He laughed more as he left my office, shutting the door quite hard.

"Yeah...I don't need it."

I replied unassuredly. I was still trying to figure out what the hell just happened.

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