A petite raven-haired woman pushed her way through the doors into the D.A's office building. She had an air of confidence around her that made her seem so much larger than her physical self. She paused briefly and held the door open as an equally petite russet-haired teenage girl walked through.
They walked down the hall in complete silence, the girl trailing slightly behind the woman. They reached the lobby and sign-in desk. The woman quickly signed in and then nudged the girl forward, whispering briefly, "Good luck. Love you."
Then the woman headed towards an elevator and pressed the button. While she was waiting she stole a quick glance at the girl and then polished the silver nametag on her briefcase. A quick swipe with her sleeve removed all the smudges from the scrolling name: Tracey Kibre.
The girl made her way to the elevator next to Tracey's, just as Tracey was boarding her elevator. Right before the door slid shut, Tracey poked her head out, gave a low whistle and waved when she got the girl's attention.
The girl's elevator arrived and she quickly boarded. She stood in the exact middle of the elevator hand tensing and relaxing on the handle of her own briefcase; a mini version of the one Tracey had been carrying. She was obviously nervous about whatever was to come.
With a ding the elevator arrived at her floor and she inhaled deeply before exiting. She walked down the hall, scanning the name plaques on each door before finding the one she was looking for. She took another deep breath and knocked on the door.
A voice answered, "Come in."
The girl pushed the door open and walked into the office behind the desk was a red haired woman. She stood and came around the desk.
"Hi, I'm Casey Novak. I'm guessing that you're my new intern," said the woman shaking the girl's hand.
"Yes, ma'am."
"They gave me all these papers with tons of information about having an intern, but you know the only information they didn't give me was your name," said Casey. "Or your age. How old are you?"
"I'm sixteen ma'am. I graduated from high school when I was fourteen," answered the girl.
"I thought you looked young. What's your name?"
"Avalanche," replied the girl. "Avalanche Kibre."
"Are you related to Tracey?" asked Casey.
"She's my mother," said Avalanche.
Casey could only stare at the girl in mild disbelief before stuttering out, "Oh, I didn't know your mother had a daughter . . . that sounded stupid. I meant to say: I didn't realize Tracey was a mother."
"She doesn't really tell a lot of people at work about me, "said Avalanche.
"Oh, why not?" asked Casey.
"I don't know. That's something you'd have to ask her," replied Avalanche.
"Okay. Well, I guess I should take you to meet the detectives we work with, Avalanche," said Casey, grabbing her jacket.
Avalanche nodded and they left the office together.