[Untitled, Private]

Finnie

Finnie

Finnie
Name: Larissa Trent

Age: 21

Appearance: https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/564x/73/b3/d2/73b3d2a93f72aeb76790399f56c9a752.jpg

Family background: Father is a wealthy businessman and help supplies weapons to the government’s anti-rebellion efforts. Older brother Bret (25) is groomed to follow in his father’s footsteps.

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Larissa tapped her foot in boredom, her arms crossed over her chest. This was so tedious. She didn’t know why her father insisted that she attend these sort of meetings. It was just a bunch of boring stuffy people talking about boring stuffy things. There were a million other things she’d rather be doing. She was going to go out with her friends tonight, and she still hadn’t decided what she was going to wear or even showered properly. She would have to get one of the servants to help her dress. Tuning out the drone of voices around her, she began mentally thinking through her closet, trying to remember what she had worn the last few times she had gone out.

“Hey,” Her brother hissed, then flicked her in the elbow.

“Ow!” She sat up straighter on the love seat she had slouched in, rubbing her arm. She glared at Bret, who shot her back an equally withering look.

“Pay attention!” He whispered. Larissa rolled her eyes and slouched back down. This whole thing would be a lot more tolerable if she had alcohol. Father usually broke out some decent wine when they had guests. He liked to show off, and getting business partners drunk was a great way to loosening their lips and their wallets. But this time he only had brandy served, and Larissa couldn’t stomach the stuff. The smell of cigarette smoke didn’t help much, either. Centuries of perfecting human civilization, and somehow the horrible habit was still a favorite among boring old men. How archaic.

“Mr. Trent, sir.”

Larissa looked up as the group went silent. The keeper of the house, her father’s most trusted worker, had come into the room. Normally he never interrupted. That meant that something important must be happening.
“What is it?” The older business man asked. Her father was am imposing man, and could leave just about anyone shaking in their boots. He had a deep, naturally commanding voice, and salt and pepper hair that was always slicked back stylishly. The rings on his fingers spoke of his wealth and position. He wasn’t someone who one would want to get on the bad side of.

“The new help has arrived.”

Larissa gasped and clapped excitedly. It had been ages since they had gotten any new servants or help! The last new additions to their house staff had come at least two years ago. She hoped one of them would be a girl- it would be so nice to have another servant to help her! Her other servant, Eve, was far too jealous and unhelpful.

“Well? What are you waiting for?” Her father said with a wave of his hand. “Bring them in!”
 
Derrick Bell
23
Standing at 6 feet even, he's not very built; it is evident that he hasn't had a decent meal in a while, if at all. The sun has been particularly kind to him with a generous tan from much exposure to the outdoors. His brown hair is grown out and rather unruly, not having been properly groomed for a while. His eyes are a piercing blue under thick eyebrows, and his nose is straight.
Family ties are undisclosed after his detainment.
____________________________________

A shrewd rattling of metal rang around the chamber, resulting in Derrick's still-too-weary eyes shooting open. First came the sharp pains in his head, then the dull, throbbing aches of his back and limbs. If the beatings he'd acquired before his detainment weren't enough to make him sore, a fleeting night's sleep on a cold, stiff mattress with no pillows or sheets sure was. He hadn't felt pain like this in a good while, and it wasn't like this was his first detainment either. He'd been taken in for more trivial crimes such as breaches of the controlled speech ordinances or stealing scraps out of disposal units. Usually, that only got him sent to the local penitentiary. This time, however, he was spotted stealing from the wrong cargo, and now he was paying for it.

He could feel his body tumbling off the mattress onto the freezing floor with a thud. It didn't feel much different to him. Through the blurred vision in his still-waking eyes, he could see a man in a pristine navy-blue uniform wielding a night-stick standing over him, the barred gate open behind him. "Get on your feet, boy," spoke the guard in a low, gravelly voice that echoed off the walls. "Your contract begins today."

That goddamned contract. Calling it a contract suggested he had any say in his position on it. But nope, now he gets to play bitch-boy for the same people he apparently robbed. As if they needed it. They never informed him of when the contract terminates either... if at all.

"I'm not gonna repeat myself, boy."

Derrick had been muttering to himself the whole time. He lethargically got to his feet, and instantaneously found himself being dragged out of the cell and thrown into a shower block with the rest of the max-security inmates. Each one he crossed eyed him with a dead look he was all too familar with at this point. He couldn't shower more than three minutes in the lukewarm plumbing before being pulled away again to be dressed and shipped out like another piece of cargo.

His arrival was by convoy. It certainly made him feel important knowing that he had so much protection on his trip. It made him feel a little less important, however, being cuffed to another guard to ensure he wouldn't try to slip free. He was given guidelines and requirements to fulfill regarding his servitude for these people beforehand, but God only knows what would come over him being put face to face with these husks of humanity, these monsters. It made his teeth grind just thinking about it. Soon enough, the van stopped and he was pulled out. What he saw outside was... different, to say the least. The buildings around him weren't crumbling, the air wasn't foggy and grey, and the foliage wasn't long dead. Was this the same country? He knew the Capitol was much better maintained, but not entirely to this extent. His exposure was brief, however, as he was led through several doors into an unusually well-kept building. These husks of people would walk by him in neat, unblemished clothing and give him a look one would give to a lame horse. He'd spit at them if he wouldn't be offed on the spot. Soon enough, he was brought to a door, where the guard leading him stopped and turned to him. "Your employers are the Trents. I certainly hope you don't plan to take anything else of their belongings. They don't play nice with your kind." The guard spoke in a hush, as if speaking too loud would get him struck.

"Bite me." Derrick responded defiantly and in a full voice.

He was finally brought into this room, where he seemed to be walking in on a sort of conference. His defiance sunk away, and soon he remembered what his place was. He hesitated for a brief moment, then finally spoke, "I'm here to provide my unconditional servitude to the Trent family." He spoke officially and concisely.
 
The keeper of the house nodded and disappeared through the door again. The guests around them mumbled and whispered, but her father stayed silent. Larissa looked over at Bret.
"How many do you think we'll get this time?"

She asked in a hush voice. Brent shrugged.

"The Baldwin's got three last week. So who knows. I hope get at least a couple good ones, though." He said. Larissa nodded in agreement.

Their attention was brought back to the front of the room as the keeper came back in, holding the door open for the others behind him.
Larissa watched with interest as a stiff official pushed a scraggly man forward. He was thin, the neglect to his health obvious by the way the tunic he wore hung off of his shoulders. His hair was messy and falling in his eyes, and his skin was dark with a tan that looked well earned. Her nose curled and her eyes darted around. Was this it? Was this man- if she could even call him that- the only help they were getting? He looked barely well enough to stand, let alone do any kind of labour. She had never seen a criminal that looked so... pathetic. Her eyes turned to exchange glances with her brother, who seemed to be thinking the same thing.

"I'm here to provide my unconditional servitude to the Trent family." He spoke, his head bowing. Larissa held back a laugh. Well, he didn't exactly have a choice, did he?
Her father was silent, stroking his beard as he looked over the new addition to the house hold. Would he turn him away? Larissa wouldn't blame him. It would take much more effort than the servant would be worth to get him back to health in a way that he would even be any help. Her father was a shrewd business man- surely he could see that. This was a home, not a rehabilitation center.

"What's your name, boy?" Mr. Trent asked. His eyes were cool and calculating. "And what are you good at?"

"Beside's stealing?" Larissa heard one of the guests whisper, making the others titter with laughter. She rolled her eyes, but waited to see his answer anyways. By the looks of him, he didn't look like he could be good at much that was helpful. But there had to be something, right?
 
From the minute Derrick walked in, he could feel the judgment and shame radiating off of his patrons. His teeth gritted and his nose wrinkled. He could hardly tolerate being in these people's presence already, let alone consider the idea of serving for them. The thought of it left his stomach queasy. They even seemed to have the gall to joke of his detainment. His arms stiffened, but any further action would be stifled by the guard next to him.

His attention was brought to whom he could only assume was Mr. Trent, as extravagant of an eyesore he was with his liberal use of jewelry. He swallowed his pride, and made eye contact with the man.

"Derrick, Sir." He heard himself speak these words, but there was unquestionably much more he'd rather say to this man.

What he was good at? Hell, maybe he could just say he wasn't good at anything so they'd send him on his way. Unfortunately, however, the contract called for his swift execution at any instance where his servitude is not sufficient. While death may be better suited for him than this gig, he'd hoped to at least see his family back home again, if they hadn't done anything to them already.

"I'm good... at protection," He finally answered. His eyes shifted as he looked around the room at the eyes watching his every action. "God knows you people will need it soon enough." That probably wasn't good enough for him. He reached a little further. "I'm also a heavy-lifter of sorts." That definitely would be funny to these people, if everything else wasn't. "I did manage to snatch a 150 lb shipment of your precious anti-personnel rifles with no real problem." He smiled calmly, at least he could be proud of himself for something.
 
The captive apparently had serious attitude problems, along with his physical short comings. Who did he think we was? Larissa crossed her arms over her chest with a sneer. This man was hardly in a position to be anything but grateful. He didn't look fit to work in the slightest. He was a scraggly runt. And yet he still managed to find himself a position as a house servant, instead of doing physical labor somewhere in the middle of nowhere. He should be kissing their feet, not being difficult when he was yet asked a simple question. She looked over to her father who sat, thinking and rubbing his hand over his chin.

"Well then. I'm sure we'll be able to find lots of work for you." He said. Larissa couldn't believe he was being so calm in all of this. This criminal was on the boarder of disrespecting her father, and he had only been in the room for ten minutes. He snapped his fingers, and the keeper of the house came forward.

"Take him to the servant quarters. Get him washed up and in a uniform." He ordered.
The keeper nodded. "We can put him to use tonight- I think the cook has some shipments coming in that need to be carried in."

"Perfect, take care of it." Her father waved his hand dismissively, done with both men. Larissa watched them go, frowning as they left. There was something... odd about that criminal. She couldn't put her finger on it, but she knew he was different from the other servants that had come to them. And she didn't like it. Perhaps her father couldn't see it, but she did. And she didn't plan on letting this man get away with anything. If he messed up, she would be the first to report him.

After they left, she settled back into the couch, and her father's droning conversation with the company continued. Well, so much for entertainment. She would just have to hold on a little longer.
 
In the quiet of Mr. Trent's pondering, Derrick could feel the piercing gaze from someone in the room, and he turned his eyes to notice a rather glamorous woman sneering at his presence. He was getting pretty goddamn tired of that look, everybody had been giving it to him ever since. As if he was any more of a rodent than these people were. His eyes contacted with hers briefly, shooting a similarly piercing look, before Mr. Trent completed his considerations.

Derrick's eyebrows quirked up with the man's response to his words. He took that oddly well, for all the backhanded-ness Derrick was throwing at him. He half-smiled in return, "It will be my pleasure, sir," he spoke in the dishonest tone of your typical no-wage servant.

With that, the guards that had led him into the room had relaxed from their post, and were on the way out. As they flooded out of the room, the guard by his side walked alongside him for one final time, inspecting him carefully before he finally spoke, "Don't you think of trying nothing, kid. Someone is always watchin' ya." With that, the guard was gone. Sure.

No more officers watching over him, thank the lord for that. Now he was just under surveillance of these conceited jackasses. Goody. He might even get proper clothing, too, or a bathroom with functional plumbing. He was living a life of luxury for sure, now, and all he had to do was lift a couple measly shipments or whatever else they could possibly need from him.
 
-Later that evening-

Larissa was ready to go. She was freshly showered, her hair curled and sprayed, makeup applied, and a glittering dress hugged her curves. She was looking hot, and she knew it. She was running a little late, but she knew Amber wouldn't mind. Showing up to parties on time was lame anyways. They'd make a much better entrance now. She just hoped her friend got strong enough alcohol. She wanted to get wasted tonight.

Heels in her hand, she carefully tiptoed down the hallway, not wanting to alert anyone that she was leaving. Her father wasn't all that happy with her going to these kinds of parties. Her and Amber were planning on going outside of the walls that surrounded their small, protected communities. She said that the workers in the nearby district new how to throw a real party- gritty ones with interesting people where anything goes. Larissa was craving the adventure. She was tired of her gilded cage, and damn it she would fly!

"Ow! Shit!" She exclaimed in a whisper as her toe slammed into an ornate pot she hadn't seen in the dark. Who the hell had left it out in the hallway? Honestly why did they even hire servants if they were just going to leave stuff around like that? She kicked it out of the way with a scowl. It was going to get her caught! If that pot got in the way of her getting to that party, she would murder whoever was responsible.

Suddenly, her head shot up as she heard footsteps. Someone must have heard! She cursed under her breath, her eyes darting around for somewhere to hide. But there was no use- she was in the middle of a hallway. Where was she supposed to go? The table! She had just passed a small table with a lamp and some flowers on it. Quickly, she turned on her heel, tiptoeing over to it as fast as she could before crouching behind it. It wasn't much of a hiding spot, but hopefully in the dark, if the person didn't look too closely, it would work. She didn't exactly have any other options.

(Small change of plans.)
 
Long days were ahead for Derrick, if today was anything to go off of. Right from the start, it was the same tedious manual labour he was accustomed to, only now he gets treated even more like dirt than he did before, now he gets spit on more, and nobody was on his side besides the other servants. Honestly, though, what the hell could they do? At least now most of his 'superiours' had left for the night so he could slave away uninterrupted. The uniform he wore at least suited him better than the scrappy tunic and trousers that the National Penitentiary oh so generously provided for him. His hair was not quite as ragged now, either. It had been combed and cleaned up and everything. Clearly, these people care about the appearances of their no-pay, felonious servants.

The other servants didn't have much of a community going on for themselves. They kept to themselves and spoke little to nothing to Derrick. Couldn't blame them, though. Not much about the situation they were in was worth idly chatting about. The most he got out of the others was the crime they committed that led them here. It seems the general theme was similar, if not a bit redundant. Not minor enough to be merely a local detainment, but not major enough to warrant execution. They didn't seem to have any desire to rebel or fight back or anything of the sort. Either it was beaten out of them or they just lost hope long ago. It made him worry for his own principles.

A audible knock rang out through the halls, followed by a hushed voice. Derrick looked up from his deliberations. He sighed. Must have been some two-bit thief. He didn't really know what the protocol was regarding invaders, but he figured he could just wing it. He walked briskly to the source of the noise and nearly walked his way into a misplaced ornate pot in the middle of the hallway. No wonder they slipped up, for as large as it was, it couldn't have been very easily spotted in the dark. Who the hell put it there anyway?

As for who walked into it, he examined the hall warily, stepping slowly around the space. Rather quickly, his eyes were drawn to a table, from which he could see something glistening behind it. He almost had to laugh, it was a pretty pathetic hiding spot. They clearly haven't done a job like this before. "Come on, now, you stick out like a sore thumb," he spoke wearily to the barely-concealed individual.
 
The footsteps were getting closer! Whoever was there must have heard her. She cursed her luck. She should have been watching where she was going. It wasn't like this was the first time she has snuck out. Or the first time she had been caught. But still. It had been forever since she had last made a mistake this big. She just prayed it wasn't her father who was walking around so late at night. Anyone but her father!

"Come on, now, you stick out like a sore thumb," Came a voice. A voice that was definitely not her father. Or her brother. She breathed out a sigh of relief. And as long as it wasn't anyone she knew, they didn't have the authority to keep her from leaving. Good. She still had time to meet up with Amber. Larissa pushed herself from behind the table, pulling her skirt back to a modest position and curious as to who had found her. She was shocked to find the new help standing in front of her.

He was cleaned up now. It looked like he had taken a proper shower, thank goodness. His face was clean and his hair neat, and he was in clothes that actually fit him. Actually, now that he wasn't a mess he didn't look as scraggly as he had before. Maybe even slightly handsome. For a criminal, that is. None of the people in the laboring district were all that attractive. They were just so... poor. They weren't suitable at friends or lovers, they were practically made for work. Though, Amber claimed she slept with a laborer once. She said he was rough in bed, with the desperation of a man who knew he was dying. Larissa thought it was bullshit, but she couldn't exactly prove her friend wrong.

"You scared me." She laughed, running her hands through her hair quickly. "I almost thought you were someone important for a second."
 
The person in the shadows had finally revealed themselves, and with it came a wave of... well, either relief or disappointment, depending on the circumstances. The same glam-queen who had been staring him down at the conference was in front of him, dressed in some glittering, tight-fitting garments and painted up all presentable, the whole shebang. Modesty did not seem to be second nature for her. To be perfectly fair, though, none of these people would know modesty if it smacked them across the face. She certainly presented well, regardless. She has to be dressed up for something at this time.

"I almost thought you were someone important for a second." He couldn't expect anything more, it would be asking too much. From what little experiences he had with the upper-class before he was brought here, he despised every second of their presence. The labour district did not choose to be the labour district. If anything, that was designated by the elite. They come through the districts with the same haughty, know-all attitudes you expect from those who know fuck-all. He'd hear his fellow labourers yearn and crave to be in the same position as the higher-ups, but Derrick never understood it. The mere thought of living a live of passivity and leisure and spitting on the people who grant them that life made him gag.

Half-mimickingly, he brushed his own hand through his hair, and jokingly exhaled as if he had been panicked. "I was worried, myself, I could have sworn someone dropped a disco-ball behind the table," he flippantly exclaimed.
 
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Larissa crossed her arms and pouted, annoyed at this silly man's insistence on being obtuse. Really, he should be begging for forgiveness. He should be kissing the ground her and her family walked on. He could be holed up in a jail cell somewhere, instead of clean, fed, and well dressed. Did he forget the fact that he was a criminal? And not a very good one at that, considering he had gotten caught. Who tries to steal that many guns, anyways?

"Whatever." She scoffed. "Laugh all you want, but this dress is worth more money than you'll ever see in your life time." Honestly, she wished she could just wipe that smug smile off his face. He didn't even know anything about her- he hadn't even worked for their family for a day. Hell, she didn't even know his name. And frankly, she shouldn't really care. After all, with his attitude problem, he was probably going to brake his contract or get kicked out at some point. Perhaps even within the week.

"And what are you doing out here anyway?" She asked, flipping her hair out of her face and putting her hands on her hips. She was basically his boss. Just a few words to her father and she could kick him out of the house- or worse. All it would take was one little mention of how then new help had "touched her inappropriately and tried to take advantage of her" and he'd be gone within the hour. Maybe even executed.
 
With a derisive roll of the eyes, Derrick sighed. "If that dress is worth that much, ma'am, I suggest you get your money back," he shot back without thinking, "though, of course, that is assuming that it's even your money to begin with.". He really shouldn't be trying to fight back at all, considering his position. Any false turn could get him executed after all. He stepped back once, in a subconscious attempt to keep his distance. He couldn't help but wonder why she was even out in the halls to begin with.

"I was scheduled on overtime. A materials shipment had been delayed," he answered, indicating to where he was just walking from. He wasn't entirely lying, either, though he was taking his precious time walking back to the servant's quarters. He crossed his own arms, half in judgment and half in self-defense. "What's your excuse, then? From what my superiours inform me, nobody else is expected to be wandering the premises at these hours." His gaze was serious and non-joking.

He was kicking himself on the inside. It was less than wise to be antagonizing his employers... No... No, they're not his 'employers'. Employers would suggest that they gave him some sort of compensation for his labours. He's doing the same exact shit he was doing back in his old district but now he's just working for the people who fucked up his district in the first place! Maybe the frustration and hatred was getting the best of him, but for the moment, he didn't care enough to stop himself.
 
"Excuse me?" Larissa hissed at his accusing tone. This man needed to be taught a lesson. And, like he said, he shouldn't be out at this time. Even if there were law shipments, he was alone and definitely not where he was supposed to be. Maybe he was even trying to steal something. It seemed to be a favorite hobby of his. In fact, she was positive this man shouldn't be in her home any longer. He was disrespectful, degrading, and an eyesore. Her father could get a new servant if he really needed one that bad. He had plenty of connections.

But maybe there was a way she could use him to her benefit before she got his ass kicked out.
"You know what? I think I'm going to report you to my father." She said, jabbing a finger into his chest. "I'm tired of the way you're talking to me, and I'm sure everyone else in this house. You don't deserve the privilege of working for us." She crossed her arms. "You've been here not even a day, and you're already being difficult. I see no reason why my family should keep you. You belong in a small, dark cell. Somewhere no one can hear your obnoxious whining. And I'll tell my father exactly that first thing tomorrow. Unless..."

Her scowled turned into a mischievous smirk. "You help me sneak out." She didn't know any of the area outside of her district. She was just hoping to find her friend with some wishy washy directions and a lot of good luck. But someone like him could probably take her where she needed to go. And he would make a good accessory for the party- she bet no one else would be bringing along someone like him. And he said he was good at protection, right? If someone tried to get too close, he could take care of them for her. He had to be good for something.

(Sorry that took so long!)
 
Derrick squinted at the girl, stepping back another time with her prodding at his chest. He didn't know what it was about this woman, but it brought out the absolute, unrestrained worst in him. At this point, he had to deliberate why it was even worth keeping this gig in the first place. Even if he did get reported, he felt like he could take his chances with a confinement cell. All things considered, that or even execution would be a step in a better direction than what he was doing now, even if he had only been at it for a day.

He glared at the woman with wide eyes. "Oh, I get it." His nose wrinkled. "All you have on me right now is that I don't talk to you all nice and put you on a pedestal. So, now you need something to put the nail in the coffin. Why in God's name should I help you get myself executed?" He growled at her, before turning away from her. "I'd rather get reported for being a little bit abrasive than get caught sneaking out overnight."

It had to be some sort of trap. He couldn't have done anything wrong besides not speaking with the nicest tone. He was on his way back to the servant's quarters anyway. Come to think of it, why hasn't he already made his way back there, yet? What was he waiting for? He could let her fend for herself, since it was obvious she wasn't supposed to be out here, either.
 
Seriously? Even now he wasn't being reasonable? What was with this guy? He was either incredibly ballsy or remarkably stupid. She suspected the latter. Did he honestly think he had a choice? He had lost that privilege a long time ago. It was his own fault, and she was acting like a spoiled child about it. And he had the gall to act like she was the source of al his problems! Well, frankly she didn't care about his pitty party. She just wanted to get to the real party- the one outside of the district.

"Fine. Have it your way." She scoffed, crossing her arms. "If you don't take me, I'll scream." She shrugged. "And when everyone comes rushing over to see what's wrong, I'll tell them what you did. How you attacked me." He couldn't honestly think she was above lying. She was determined to get where she wanted to go- he should be honored that she was even offering to bring him. What servant wouldn't want to go out and party for a night? He was just being bull headed and ridiculous now.

"I wonder who they'll believe." She said, tapping her chin in sarcastic thought. "The rude servant who's been here ten hours or the precious daughter of one of the most power men in the country?"

(Just go with it lmao)
 
(I had to make him a little stubborn :p )
Derrick fell completely silent, still turned away from the woman. His hands clenched into fists looking for something to strike, but finding nothing suitable, or at least nothing (or nobody) that wouldn't get him back into trouble. So much for standing his ground. All he wanted was to go back to the servant's quarters and get some sleep, he'd just about had enough tolerating all these spoiled dickheads for the day. Why didn't he just keep walking? It could have been someone else's problem. Even better, it could have been her dad's problem. He turned around again to face the girl, his eyes cold and fierce.

"Well," his voice was quiet, but hid behind it an abundance of pent up fury. "If that's how you want to play this game, then I guess we're going." It was particularly bothersome how she somehow finds trust in him to get her out of the building, of all people. Who was to say by the time she was out of the district that she doesn't get somehow attacked or killed while he wasn't watching?

He took a deep breath before speaking again. "Where exactly are you going, anyway? I don't know shit in this district."
 
Larissa's face broke into a wide grin, and she clapped excitedly. Perfect! She was glad he had finally learned his place and was willing to do something useful for once. After all, he should be grateful she was even asking for his help. He got to go to a party, too. Her lip curled slightly. She wished he looked a little more presentable, but it would have to do.

"I'm meeting up with my friend Amber. She said she knows where the party is, but we have to get to the wall between the districts first. Now shut the hell up before we get caught!" She fluffed up her hair and adjusted her shoes in the hands before taking off tip-toeing down the hallway again. If they didn't hurry, they were going to be late!

There was security at all the doors, so they would have to be crafty about getting out of the house. Luckily, she knew exactly where all the alarms triggers were. This wasn't the first time she had ever snuck out. The more her father tried to impose his ridiculous rules on her, the more she found ways around them. Tonight, they'd be going through the window. She couldn't go out the one in her room because it was too high up and towards the front of the house. There was no way they could get out without being seen there. But she had left one of the windows in the back room open earlier, before the house was locked down for the night.

"Come on!" She whispered, annoyed at his unenthusiastic pace. Perfect- no one had closed the window! She should probably be concerned at how easily someone could get into their house and how oblivious the security was, but she decidded not to think about it too much Since when did anything bad happen in her district? Tossing her shoes out before her, she climbed through the window and out onto the grass below.
 
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