Welcome back, and enjoy
Chapter 2
"Sakura!"
A head of pink hair whipped toward the source of the call, short strands flying around a young face. Sakura pouted, dragging her feet back up the street to where her mother waited for her outside the bookstore, hands on her hips. Despite her frilly pink apron and wooden cooking spoon, the older woman still cut an intimidating figure. Sakura stood in front of her mother with her head bowed. Her mother smelled like spices and Sakura's stomach growled at the aroma.
"You know about the curfew," her mother began, sternly. Sakura jerked her head in a reluctant nod. She scuffed her green sneakers against the concrete, refusing to raise her eyes. Her mother let out a deep sigh.
The street was deserted, a rare sight so early in the evening. The sun had yet to fully set. Children usually roamed freely at this time, shrieking as they raced by on bikes, laughing as their fingers grew sticky with the snacks bought from the store. Sakura was a common sight at this time of day, never without her two boys bouncing around her, arguing about this and that. Her scraped knees always missing the band-aids her mother so carefully placed each morning.
"Sakura, this curfew is for your safety," her mother said at last. She sounded tired and Sakura felt a pang of guilt. The adults were all so stressed lately. Her teachers never took their eyes off of her classmates, and parents lined the sidewalk at the end of the school day to walk children home now, even those that worked. She was pretty sure it had to do with Chiharu and Tsukiko being absent so much. She hadn't seen them in a month.
Still, a sense of righteous injustice bubbled in her at the confinement. She hadn't gotten any bad grades in school and she hadn't gotten into any trouble, so why should she be punished?
"But Mom, I'm ten years old now! Why can't I go play with Naruto? You let me do it all the time!"
There was a beat of silence and Sakura raised her eyes carefully, surprised to find her mother looking at her with a small smile on her face instead of a frown.
"Oh, darling," her mother sighed, bending down until they were eye level, placing a gentle hand on Sakura's head. "I know you want to play with your friends. But you can't for a little while, at least not when the sun starts to go down. You didn't do anything wrong, your father and I just love you very much, understand?"
Sakura sniffed, glaring at a point just above her mother's shoulder.
"If you loved me, you'd let me play with Naruto," she grumbled. It was a half-hearted attempt. Her mother laughed, shooing her daughter back inside.
"You'll understand when you get a little older."
Sakura jerked to reality with a start, eyes focusing back on the ring she was staring at, the one that hardly ever left her right ring finger. The memory from years ago had come unbidden, the smell of her mother's cooking still so strong in her mind she could almost smell it in Itachi's car.
"I haven't seen you since you got home," Itachi broke the silence. Kisame jerked awake from where he had been pretending he wasn't dozing in the passenger seat. Sakura met Itachi's eyes in his rearview mirror briefly before turning her gaze back to the town passing by.
"I haven't been home long," she murmured. They didn't talk again the rest of the car ride.
She stretched her arms above her with a sigh and grimaced when her shoulder popped. A cup of steaming coffee was placed in front of her and she mumbled her thanks, taking a sip despite the fact the liquid was still scalding.
"This coffee is shit," she whined, slumping forward once more. Shitty coffee to top off a shitty morning was exactly what she needed.
Kisame snorted his agreement from beside her.
"The chief refuses to get a new coffee machine," he informed her with a sidelong glance at Fugaku's closed door, like he could hear him. "Calls it an 'unnecessary expense'." He mimicked the chief's deeper, slow voice with startling accuracy. Sakura nearly cracked a smile.
"I'll buy one my damn self," she growled. "I'm gonna be spending too much time here anyway."
A dull thud on the desk in front of her sent her flying back in her seat, nearly tilting her chair over until Kisame grabbed it and steadied it for her.
"You couldn't have set the boxes down gently?" the detective asked dryly.
Itachi feigned innocence. Sakura scowled at him until he at last smiled somewhat apologetically.
"Did I wake you, Haruno-san?" he asked sweetly. She hated how the Uchiha brothers were both such attractive assholes. Why couldn't God have made her life easier and made them ugly, or at least stupid?
Sakura rolled her eyes, brushing the hair out of her face impatiently as she attempted another sip of the coffee. And promptly had to convince herself not to spit it right back in the cup.
"You've known me since I was a toddler, Itachi-san. Do you really need to call me that?"
His head tilted to the side as he thought carefully.
"Sakura-san?" he tried. Sakura considered it briefly before nodding. It was better than nothing.
"It feels strange since we haven't seen each other in what, five years?" he added, trying to measure the time correctly. Sakura tilted her head to the side as she considered it.
"More like seven years, wouldn't it be? You graduated my first year of high school, and I was in Tokyo for five years…"
"You came home a couple of times," he pointed out and Sakura frowned as she tried to remember when her last trip home had been. The trips had been few and far in between as she had chased her dreams and tried to leave the small town behind.
"You two have been friends that long?" Kisame asked, sounding surprised.
Sakura shook her head, crossing her arms in front of her as she searched for Naruto's distinctive head of gold hair in the crowded room. Wherever he was, Sasuke wasn't too far behind.
"His little brother and I," she corrected. "Sasuke-kun and I are in the same year and pulling Naruto's dumb ass out of trouble was a two-man job, so here we are."
She found the two of them, poring over a map of the town someone had erected on a blank wall. Naruto was pointing at a spot and explaining something rapidly while Sasuke frowned in thought. If she looked hard enough, she was convinced she'd see the kids they used to be.
"I'm shocked you don't consider me a friend, Sakura-san," Itachi interrupted her thoughts, dark eyes glinting.
Sakura smirked.
"You can't even remember the last time we met, Itachi-san. My heart is broken," she sniffed. He fought a smile and she knew she'd won.
She glared at the cup of coffee balefully for five more seconds before pulling her phone out and typing out a message.
"Want some decent coffee, Kisame?" she asked.
Kisame nodded eagerly, listing his order off with glee. She glanced at Itachi, who shook his head, rather disapprovingly.
"I prefer tea," he informed her as he took a seat, pushing one of the boxes over to Kisame's desk. Their desks faced each other, so all they had to do was lean around their computers to speak to each other. Sakura had pulled up a chair by Kisame to rest her eyes as the chief spoke to the girl's parents. Itachi had gone to fetch evidence from an old case, one she remembered well from her childhood.
Her nose wrinkled as she watched them open the boxes carefully, just two of them, and neither very heavy. The case had never been solved, and a huge reason had been lack of evidence. Sakura knew the killings had been hard on Fugaku, the leading detective on the case at the time. The former chief had retired because of it.
She sent the message. Sakura twisted the ring on her finger as Kisame skimmed old reports and Itachi frowned at a pair of shoes that had been bagged.
"Do you think it's a copy-cat?" Kisame asked. It took Sakura a moment to realize he was talking to her. She blinked at him blankly.
"Why ask me?" she shot back. Kisame didn't seem surprised by the question. He shrugged, considering her carefully.
"Itachi might have a clearer memory of the murders that happened fifteen years ago, since he was older than you. But kids absorb a lot of emotions and energy without anyone ever realizing it. You would've been what, ten? Eleven maybe? You probably remember more than anyone thinks. Not to mention, I don't doubt you've read every article ever written on it, since you're a journalist and all."
Sakura hummed thoughtfully as she digested what he'd said. He had a few rather solid points. She had practically memorized every detail of the previous murders, had spent months poring obsessively over every single piece of writing on it she could find. She had scoured the internet for old records, old reports, anything the police may have released to the public. The time in her childhood had always felt fuzzy to her. Her parents had died four months after the killings had started.
But reading and researching had sharpened her memories. Or rather, her feelings. She remembered the fear that had haunted her small town. How her mother had stopped letting her play outside when it got dark, something that had never been a problem before. How her father had walked her home every day after school, taking time off work to do so.
And she remembered a few of her classmates suddenly being gone. The teachers hadn't liked to talk about them, other than to say they had been bright kids and encourage their students to remember them happily. Sakura knew all of their parents had moved away eventually.
She guessed in some way, she had hoped she could solve the murders. A pipe dream, of course, as most dreams were. But a dream nontheless.
The body of the new girl came to mind and she compared it with the photos she had managed to get her hands on of the children from her childhood.
"No," she said, after a few moments. Something in her gut lurched. She felt vaguely nauseous as she tried to stop thinking about Rika's dead body. "No, I don't think it's a copy-cat."
Twenty minutes later Hinata dropped off the coffee Sakura had requested, brushing off their fervent thanks as she handed out bentos to the officers who had been at the scene. Naruto could hardly contain his enthusiasm, torn between wolfing down his food and kissing his fiancée.
Sakura sent her off with a hug and a kiss, promising lunch the next day to catch up. Hinata looked worried, wringing her hands like she had in high school. A nervous tic Sakura doubted would every fully go away.
"Be careful, Sakura," she murmured.
Sakura forced a smile, squeezing her friend's hand. She felt Hinata's hands still beneath her touch.
"Don't worry about me."
With the coffee, Sakura felt her will to live slowly return. She made copies and scribbled notes on old autopsies as Kisame and Itachi reviewed all of the old evidence. She rubbed her eyes tiredly, making a mental note to fish out her old journals from her research on the old case. They were in a box somewhere in her office, no doubt.
The door to Fugaku's office opened after an hour. He exited, looking a hundred years older than when he went in. Sakura could hear Rika's parents sobbing before Fugaku closed the door gently. He gestured her over and Sakura hurried forward, nearly spilling her coffee in her haste. She could have sworn she heard Kisame snicker.
"Take tissues and water bottles. Be slow and careful. It won't hurt to let them know you grew up here," Fugaku instructed her, rather needlessly. The tissues and water bottles were already clutched in her hands and she smiled humorlessly at the police chief.
"I know the drill, Chief."
Rika's parents didn't know anything useful. They were a newer family, having moved to Konoha just a few years before. Rika sounded like a rather normal teenage girl. She was an excellent student, well-behaved in school. She went out with friends and was always home for dinner.
When Sakura reported this to Fugaku, he rubbed a hand over his tired face.
"She reminds me of myself at that age," Sakura admitted quietly after a moment. A good student with an average, nearly boring life. Fugaku looked at her, eyes suddenly becoming gentle.
"Your grandmother was very proud of you. And so were your parents," he said. She blinked back tears, clearing her throat as she stood.
"I hope so."
The briefing was short and to the point. Chief Fugaku had never been a man of many words. Sakura introduced herself, rather unnecessarily as the cops all shouted greetings and 'welcome back's. She waved off the jokes and rolled her eyes at Naruto's hooting before she sat back down. They quieted down quickly as Fugaku cleared his throat, leveling his team with an even, stern stare.
"Having him as a father must have been fun," she murmured to Itachi, who sat to her right.
"My mother is even sharper than him," Itachi whispered back just as quietly.
Sakura shivered. She had no doubt Mikoto was a force of nature all on her own.
"We discovered this note in the victim's pocket," Fugaku's voice snapped her back to attention as a murmur rippled through the crowd. Sakura squinted at the note being projected on the screen, scanning the words carefully and jotting notes down in her notebook.
Even the most elusive prey can be caught.
It was typed. Not signed, on standard copy paper in standard black ink. Folded perfectly into a neat square. Sakura frowned at it, something tickling at her brain. The words caught at her eyes, somehow loud and jarring, like they were jumping up and down for her attention.
"And, we've never released this detail to the public, but it matches notes found on victims from a similar murder case 15 years ago."
Shock tingled up her spine. Other notes were splashed across the screens, all saying vague facts, almost pieces of wisdom if they weren't so morbid.
Kisame grunted, shifting in his seat.
"So it's definitely the same killer," he called out.
Fugaku frowned thoughtfully.
"It could also be someone who knew the previous killer," he pointed out. Kisame nodded and Sakura turned the situation around in her head, picking at different scenarios.
Her hand moved furiously across her notebook page, scribbling out questions and crossing out others at an alarming speed as she thought, brow creased in concentration. She could feel Itachi watching her with interest, or perhaps fascination. Her thought process was rather frenzied, she knew, but it worked. Usually.
"That's all the evidence. Sakura-san will be assisting Detectives Uchiha and Hoshigaki on this case due to her experience with…well, with these cases. I don't need to tell anyone in this room how important this case is."
The room was silent. Sakura glanced around, feeling something in her chest coil tightly. Most of the faces were familiar ones, people she had grown up with. She had no doubt that a majority of the cops in Konoha probably remembered the case from fifteen years ago. With perfect clarity.
She exchanged a quiet look with Itachi as they exited the room. She wondered how much was about to change.
The incessant buzzing of her phone took a few moments to register. Sakura's arm shot out from beneath the covers on her bed, slapping her nightstand and knocking over empty beer cans until she found the source of the irritating noise.
She opened one eye carefully, groaning at the name flashing across her screen.
"Ino," she growled as she answered the call.
Ino was entirely unapologetic, as per usual.
"You promised Hinata and I lunch today," her friend accused immediately. Sakura could imagine her, in her coarse work apron, hands on her hips as she scolded her best friend at eight in the morning.
"Lunch is in like five hours," Sakura sighed. She rolled onto her back, kicking the covers off of her and leaving her legs bare. Her ceiling fan spun with nearly startling intensity as it attempted to ward off the heat already building. The room was dim and cool and quiet aside from Ino's squawking. Sakura sighed again.
"We both know you can sleep all day if we let you so I'm just making sure you wake up and remember our date!"
"Well, I remember, now can I please go back to sleep?"
Ino huffed.
"Fine, but if you don't show up, I will come to your house and murder you with these damn geraniums. Don't forget, I have a key."
Sakura couldn't help the short laugh that left her.
"Deal."
After Ino's call, sleep was impossible to find again. Sakura stared at her ceiling, thoughts drifting.
The news of the murder had broken and chaos had descended on the little town once more in just one short day. Sakura did not envy Fugaku, or even Itachi and Kisame. They had been drowned by concerned, frightened parents, demanding answers they didn't have yet.
Sakura knew it wouldn't be long until her editor was calling her from Tokyo, clamoring for details. Journalists from all over would catch wind before too long. And, God forbid, if there was another victim, they would start travelling to Konoha themselves. The old case was still a subject of fascination and for years Konoha had struggled with the infamy it had been associated with. To learn of a new murder in the same small town, so many years later. Not to mention that the victim had been a young, smart, beautiful girl.
It was like crack for people like her.
Sakura sat up reluctantly, running a hand through her hair. She groaned as she tied it up hastily, wincing as she unwittingly pulled on it. Her head pounded and her mouth felt dry, no doubt a reminder of the beer she had chugged the night before to force her body to sleep. Coffee was necessary for mornings like these.
She got the machine running before she stepped outside, lit cigarette in hand. She took slow, lazy drags as a warm breeze rustled her robe. The morning was quiet, even by Konoha standards. In the distance, Sakura could see the empty school. Summer break had started but kids slept in and she had no doubt parents were having frantic, whispered discussions on what to do. She watched the smoke disappear from her lips disinterestedly.
Tokyo was never like this. Never this quiet. There was always sound: alarms, cars, people. Sometimes, she had liked it. It had made her feel less lonely. But she had missed Konoha's quiet, too.
The familiar ding of her coffee machine sounded and she stubbed her cigarette out in the ashtray. As she sucked down her coffee, she glanced over her notes from the previous day. Her notebook and various folders were strewn across the coffee table. Her gaze lingered on the note left in the poor girl's pocket. Something about it bothered her. It seemed almost sloppy for such an organized killer. Notes were so easily traceable. And yet…
She was jolted from her thoughts by her phone buzzing where it sat on the counter. A text instead of a call this time. Opening up her messages, she scanned the text from Itachi with some degree of surprise. He struck her more as a phone call kind of person. But at the same time, she wasn't at all surprised he was a morning person.
What time will you be at the station today?
She hummed as she thought. Lunch would take at least an hour, and she would need time to get to the station.
maybe around 3?
The reply was nearly instant.
I can pick you up.
She raised an eyebrow. Itachi didn't seem like an overly helpful person, despite his profession. If her memory was correct, the Uchiha's lived in the opposite direction of her little bookstore, and the police station was a little bit further. Still, she thought, finishing off her coffee and pouring herself another cup. It would be nice not to walk. Especially in the midday heat.
She considered it for a few more moments before typing out a message.
bring coffee
She could imagine the way he was shaking his head.
"Okay Hinata, enough procrastinating, we need to talk colors!" Ino growled. Her focus was laser sharp, teal eyes unwavering as Hinata squirmed ever so slightly in her seat.
"Calm down, pig, you're making her nervous," Sakura chided. She tapped out a message to her editor before she set her phone down. She eyed Hinata over her white sunglasses, red mouth pursed thoughtfully.
"Although, I will have to kill you if you put me in anything even vaguely metallic," she added as an afterthought.
The little café they had chosen for lunch was relatively newer, and small. But it was cozy and the coffee was delicious. Their little patio was clean and despite the heat, the shade meant it was a bearable temperature for them to enjoy their drinks and sandwiches.
"Well, I was thinking lavender…" Hinata trailed off as Ino's eyes widened and Sakura whipped her sunglasses off, setting them down on the table with force.
"Genius," Ino whispered.
"Probably the one color both of us will look good in," Sakura confirmed.
Hinata's expression brightened. "For the cut, I'm going to let you two decide on it and we'll have the dresses tailored to your measurements and specifications," she elaborated, opening up the baby blue wedding planner Kushina had gifted her. Sakura breathed a sigh of relief. Ino and her had such different figures, finding one style that suited them both would've been near impossible.
"Ino-chan has been helpful with the flowers and their arrangements, but the problem of food still stands," she continued, frowning at the planner. Sakura craned her neck to see the catering options she had listed in pencil, all with notes on them with her father and Naruto's opinions.
"Naruto is adamant on ramen but I don't want that to be the only option. My father wants traditional food, of course. But I like the idea of warm food, since it'll be a winter wedding."
Sakura tapped her chin, sipping at her latte as she thought. She stared at the stain her lips left on the cup, resisting the urge to swipe her thumb across it. Ino was similarly lost in thought, brow furrowed as she contemplated the question all of them had for months now.
"Have small finger sandwiches for the guests as they arrive," Sakura suggested. Classy, and it would keep the guests from starving during the ceremony. "Then, what about hotpot for the reception? Plenty of meat and tofu for different diets, and you can serve ramen and udon as well. Followed by cake, of course, and coffee once the party starts to wind down."
Hinata's expression brightened.
"That might work," she murmured, scribbling some ideas down. "I'm not sure if hotpot is exactly suited for my father, but he'll like the finger sandwich idea."
"He can't win on everything," Ino pointed out. Hinata sighed her agreement.
There was a beat of silence. Sakura watched two teenagers on a date share a smoothie inside the café, giggling at some video on a phone. Their heads nearly touched as they leaned toward each other. She wondered if they had been close to Rika. She wondered if they had even known her.
"Earth to Forehead," Ino called, waving a hand in front of Sakura's face. She blinked back to reality, startled.
"Sorry, what?"
Ino looked at her with sympathy, pushing the last of her sandwich toward her.
"I heard the station was crazy yesterday after they found that poor girl," Ino commented softly.
Sakura blew out a breath, finishing off her coffee.
"The town is scared," Sakura answered. Her voice wasn't as even as she'd thought it'd be. I'm scared.
"I heard Itachi is the leading detective on the case," Ino continued, voice purposefully nonchalant even as her eyes pierced her best friend. Sakura nearly smiled. The gloom of the topic fell away like petals from a flower. It was Ino's special gift, to bring the sun back.
"And his partner," Sakura hummed, refusing to fall for the bait. She glanced at the time, opening her sunglasses back up and perching them on top of her head. She refused eye contact with Ino as she casually swiped through her phone, checking her reflection to make sure that her lipstick hadn't smeard.
Somehow, though, it was enough for Ino.
"Still as handsome as you remember, right?" Her eyes glittered and she reminded Sakura of a cat with its eyes on a piece of prey. Hinata giggled, covering the sound by sipping at her water.
"And still an Uchiha," Sakura retorted.
Hinata and Ino stared at her in confusion. She smirked, flicking her eyes to their faces and back to her phone.
"A know-it-all bastard with too much good hair," she elaborated.
Ino didn't stop laughing for five minutes.
"Are you a serial killer?"
Itachi blinked, once, then twice. His outstretched hand holding a tall cup of iced coffee didn't waver even as he stared at her blankly. Sakura took the coffee, plucking it from his fingers and taking a long sip. She had been outside all of two minutes and the heat was already making her sunglasses slide down her nose. She eyed Itachi enviously. He was leaned against his car in a button up and slacks, and still managed to look the picture of nonchalance.
"Your car," she elaborated after realizing the detective was still nonplussed. "Every detective's car I've ever ridden in has been, if not filthy, at least messy."
She gestured toward the vehicle, a relatively recent model that looked like it had never seen a speck of dust since Itachi had driven it out of the dealership. The interior, leather seats of course, was absolutely spotless. Sakura was terrified of the possibility she might spill something in it. The car was the definition of immaculate.
"I like things neat," Itachi answered after a second. He straightened, opening the passenger side door for her. She glanced at him, one eye brow raised as she stepped into it.
"I know some very good therapists who can help with that," she informed him.
She was pretty sure she saw his lips twitch before he shut the door.
Kisame looked about as tired as Sakura felt underneath the makeup. She took one look at him and forced a smile, sashaying her hips as she pranced up to his desk. Officers called greetings and she waved back, shooting them bright smiles and laughs. She knew the boys were sleeping after staying even later than she had last night. Her heels made dull thuds against the carpeted ground but Kisame didn't look up until she dropped into the chair beside him.
"Staring at the report won't change what it says," she said, softly. It would sound like a joke if Kisame hadn't seen the way her eyes tightened, and the corners of her red mouth pulled down.
"It's only been a day and I feel like I'm goin' crazy," Kisame confided. His broad shoulders sloped forward.
Sakura sighed, remembering her coffee table covered in autopsies and pictures of dead girls.
"Me, too."
She took another look at the despair on Kisame's face. She clapped a hand on his shoulder.
"At the very least, we'll go crazy together," she continued solemnly.
Kisame snorted. His body relaxed ever so slightly and he leaned back in his chair, grinning at her.
"I have a feeling you already were a bit crazy, Pinkie. Who the hell volunteers to write about dead people in their free time?"
"Okay so, the question is the same as it was two hours ago, and yesterday for that matter: copy-cat, or same perp?" Sakura sighed.
Itachi and Kisame groaned.
"I think it's the same guy," Kisame asserted for the fifth time in as many minutes.
"But think about how much time has passed," Itachi argued. Both had their jackets off and ties loosened, and Sakura had abandoned her heels long ago, bare feet perched on another chair. They had claimed an interrogation room for the investigation hours ago. Maps of the town had been pinned to the walls and a huge whiteboard had been dug out of the basement. It was covered in scrawled notes and shitty doodles, courtesy of Kisame.
"Fifteen years is a long time. The police always thought the guy had to be at least thirty-five years old. That would make him fifty now."
"I can do math, Itachi," Kisame answered dryly. "But teenage girls aren't very difficult to overpower, especially if a fifty-year old man is bigger than them and in relatively good shape. And those notes could only have been done by the same perp."
"Or a copy-cat who knew the original guy," Sakura threw in. Kisame tossed her a dirty look and she raised her hands defenselessly.
"Look, we need to consider every angle. I agree that the notes are solid evidence for Kisame's point but I think you guys are missing an even bigger thought."
Both men blinked at her blankly. She sighed, rising to her feet and padding barefooted over to the whiteboard.
"What's the population of Konoha, gentlemen?" she asked, her back to them.
Itachi answered instantly.
"Around five thousand, according to the most recent census."
She turned to face them, pointing at the map of the town they had set up on the other side of the room.
"And what is Konoha surrounded by?"
"Urban areas, mostly farms. And the ocean to the east," Kisame answered this time, slowly as he tried to puzzle out where she was going with her points.
"Now, if we try to go about this using the copy-cat angle, what we need to consider is the statistics," she said. Their expressions began to clear as she continued. "Two serial killers with the same tastes in victims and the same MO's meeting in a city like Tokyo is rare enough. For it to happen in a small town like Konoha is nearly unheard of."
Itachi frowned. She could seem him picking at her argument, puzzling it apart and considering all of its angles. Kisame looked nearly triumphant.
"We've gotta ask if Konoha is really that unlucky. And if it is, the implications are astronomical," Sakura said. Her head ached just thinking about it. "Why did the first perp stop killing? And if it's the same guy, why start again? What's the trigger, what's the motive?"
"And if it's a copy-cat, why start now is still a question," Itachi murmured.
Sakura hummed her agreement, walking across the room to grab her phone, opening up her contacts and scrolling until she found the right one. She wanted a cigarette so bad she could almost taste it.
"I have a friend who can help, I think," she informed them, putting the phone up to her ear. Kisame opened his mouth to ask a question, then closed it. In the almost 48 hours he had known her, he had come to learn that asking Sakura questions was nearly always fruitless. She'd give you the answer when she was ready.
"Sensei, I need some advice," she said as soon as a voice answered her. Whatever the other person said, she smiled at it.
"Unfortunately, yes."
