Down on the floor lay a body – it was the younger woman, and she was sprawled there out on her back, unmoving. Her cosmetic kit had been tossed off the sink, too, its contents hurled all across the spacious room: tubes of mascara, eyeliner pencils, and brushes of every size had rolled under the sinks and stalls; the compact foldable mirror, severed from the main case, now sported a thousand cracks; and the tip of her lipstick had been sheared off from the strength of the fall, where it rested solitarily in a corner. Powdery patches of pigment dotted the floor, spilled from their palette and mingling with a small pool of blood that was oozing around the back of the woman's head.

"...Oh gods!" Waking from the initial shock, Clover threw herself to her knees beside her. "Hey! Lady, are ya okay?!" she yelled at her, "Hey! Wake up! Wake up!"

She put her hands on the girl's chest and lightly rocked her, though she didn't react or stir at all. Fearing the worst, Clover lowered her first and middle fingers to her neck to feel her pulse, fortunately finding it stable. She seemed to be breathing alright as well. Then, she stared into the dormant face – the girl's eyes were closed, while her cherry lips, full and lipstick-smudged, hung in a rigid half-open state; it was evident she had lost consciousness. Additionally, there were splashes of water on her face; they were making parts of her mascara run down her cheeks in inky, blurried strokes, as one would after crying. A quick examination of the rest of the body revealed no further injuries.

Clover didn't even know what to think of this. Why did this have to be happening now? Her night was going poorly enough already!

Once she had the other woman secured in her grasp, the next thing she did was scan the room for any hostiles who might be in the room with them, waiting to pounce in this susceptible moment. Teeth grinding, fur standing on end, she started craning her neck around, ready to jump into action at the slightest movement. The hum of the still-running sink wailed incessantly in her ears as she proceeded to duck on all fours and check the inside of every stall – but alas, they were all empty. There was nothing left – the stranger from before had fled the scene; vanished without a trace. Even so, that hardly relieved the feverish tension that now flooded Clover's system, for she still had an injured, unconscious person to contend with.

Now, Clover was no doctor, but she had learned a small wealth of medical techniques from her stint at the military academy a few years back, including CPR and first aid. She rolled the woman onto her side and very carefully slid her head and limbs into a more comfortable posture (the recovery position, she recalled), after which she looked into her wound. Beneath the fur of the nape there was a gash from which she was bleeding profusely, but it wasn't that big or otherwise appeared to be too serious of an injury. However, it still needed to get treated as soon as possible, yet with no instruments or deeper understanding of the subject, the only thing Clover could do was stay there and hope someone would come along in the meantime.

By that point, the blood pool on the floor had grown bigger in volume, a grisly fact that she ignored as she went to fetch a roll of toilet paper in order to clean it up. All those constant run-ins with fossa had made the young bodyguard see worse than this, so she wasn't overly squeamish at the sight of red.

"Okay, okay..." she whispered upon her return, softly pressing the fresh sheets against the other girl's nape, "Gotta stay calm. Just remember your training and it'll be fine... You're gonna be fine... I promise." The soothing words continued to stream from Clover's lips, though aware as she was that they weren't being heard.

She worked quickly and without impediment, even as blood seeped through the oversaturated papers and onto her own hands, turning them a sickly dark crimson. When the immediate area around the wound had been mostly cleared of fluid, she pinned one last sheet on it to stop the blood flow outright and, holding it there, lifted her head towards the door, which lay closed and out of reach several feet away.

"HEEEY! Someone! Please, help! Anyone!" Her futile cry echoed out, yet no one came to her aid. The commotion outside was just too loud.

Thus, as she lingered there all alone, the only other thing Clover could think of was that stranger again. Whoever that had been had indubitably and very deliberately done this to this poor woman, so if they were still around the premises, then it was her sworn duty to find them, apprehend them, and punish them accordingly. But that would have to wait...

Suddenly, her mind raced back to that mysterious red figure she had seen before, and her stomach sank in her belly like a boulder in a pond.

Dear Frank, no... Not her...

She couldn't know for sure, especially not without factual proof, but the possibility of Crimson being somehow the one responsible for this seemed to become more and more real the more she pondered it. There were definitely a few signs that pointed at this – her sister's resentment towards her ban from the pageant had been pretty clear-cut from the start, so who was to say this hadn't been a premeditated act of jealousy, or perhaps revenge? Did she even know this girl? Of course, Crimson could be extremely vindictive and ruthless towards those who crossed her (as King Julien could attest), but going so far as to assault someone who appeared barely older than a teenager? Clover nearly broke out in a cold sweat at the thought.

Just then – at long last – her theories were interrupted by a party of four other women opening the door. They were laughing and singing, brandishing their highballs in youthful excitement, but when they stumbled upon the dire scene ahead – Clover on her knees next to an unconscious girl, strips of bloodied paper and broken cosmetics littering the floor, they jumped back with a terrified shriek, one of them dropping her glass. Thankfully, the bodyguard was able to stop them from fleeing by telling them in a placating, yet strong tone of voice that there was no danger and that she badly needed their help. The four shared a frightful glance but, reluctant to disobey a member of the king's court, they agreed. Clover swiftly instructed one half of the group to stay with the downed contestant, showing them how to tend to her wound, then sent the other half to stand guard outside.

"And if anybody asks, you tell 'em it's classified information, under direct orders from me!" Snarling, she shut the door behind the three of them. "I don't care if people's bladders are 'bout to burst – nobody is allowed in there unless I say so, capiche?"

Both saluted her nervously; they were obviously far from used to situations like these.

"Ye – yes, ma'am! Nothing will get past us!" they said.

"Good! Now, as for myself..." Clover turned away, eyes set on the busy crowd. "...I've got a lil' rat to catch."

And with that, she set off into the massive rave that still went on undisturbed. Clover wondered if any of these lemurs could have any useful intel to give her, although it didn't seem so; no one looked the slightest bit bothered by what had happened (if anything, they were utterly oblivious to it). This would play in her favor, however; if she revealed there was an assailant on the loose now, she ran the risk of throwing the whole club into disarray, which would only make her job that much harder. And besides... deep down, a part of her just did not want them to find out the possible identity of the culprit...

No. Now wasn't the time for feelings to get in the way of duty. Regardless of who was actually behind this, every second that passed was another window for them to get away, and Clover would never be able to forgive herself if she let a dangerous criminal escape due to a bunch of unfounded fears holding her back. After all, her reputation as the defender of the people spoke for itself, and she wasn't planning to start falling short of it now.

Nevertheless, the thing most paramount at the moment was to ensure that the disabled contestant would be in good hands. She entered the dining area, which had the highest concentration of employees in the club. It didn't take her long to find one – a waitress was just swerving around the tables with a silver tray of snacks and drinks in her hand, yet she couldn't reach her customers, as Clover skidded to a stop in the middle of her path and began to wave her arms in an arc over her head.

"Oi, you, hold it! We've got an emergency situation in here!" she shouted, trying to make herself heard over all the noise.

The young waitress, coaxed to a shuddering halt, nearly spilled the batch of cocktails she was carrying; readjusting them safely with her other hand, she asked the other lemur, "What? E – emergency? What – what kind of emergency?"

"A huge, messy one, that's what! Someone's been hurt in the women's restroom; she's unconscious and bleeding, and needs help yesterday! Ya gotta send someone in to get her outta here!" Clover pointed in the desired direction and then shooed her away. "Go, quick! There should be two girls posted outside – tell 'em I sent ya!"

Her orders were heeded at once; nodding, the waitress put her tray down on the closest unoccupied table. "Er... yes, ma'am! Anything else?"

"Yeah. Whatever ya do, be discreet! The last thing we need is a bunch of drunken blokes making a fuss over this! Now move!"

With another nod, the waitress scurried off to alert her superiors.

Now that that issue had been taken care of, Clover hurried back to the pool booth to notify her friends of everything as well. Club Xanadu was a big place, so in order to catch the intruder, greater numbers would be required. She was well aware how crazy she was probably going to sound, but if she just managed to talk them into helping her, their chances of success would increase manyfold.

However, if Crimson really was here – if she really was to blame for this mess, Clover would have to be prepared, as much as it might hurt her. For now, all she could do was pray to the gods to be wrong.

Dead wrong.

"So... any news?"

The five animals had convened in front of the restrooms, having just returned from a joint inspection of the vicinities. Julien still could hardly believe it; not even a quarter of an hour ago he'd been gushing down margaritas at the pool table with Xixi, when all of a sudden his bodyguard, looking haggard and worried beyond belief, had burst in shouting incoherences about girls and blood and pageants, and that she was convinced Crimson might be lurking somewhere in the club. At first he'd thought she was just going on about one of her typical paranoiac rants, but when she'd then dragged him and the others out to show them what lay in the women's bathroom, he'd instantly changed his mind and agreed to help her search.

At Clover's behest, this had been done as unobtrusively as possible. The four lemurs had ensured not to say anything about the incident as they split themselves up – Clover going to the bar while Julien took to the dance floor, Maurice checking all the recreational booths, and Mort looking into the dining area, all the while asking patrons if they had seen anything out of the ordinary. As they did this, Xixi backed them up by doing a general sweep of the area from above.

Sadly though, it all turned out to be in vain, as the five had returned empty-handed.

"No." Clover shook her head at her king. "Nothing. I've double-checked everything, interrogated everyone I could get my hands on, and I even went out and asked Butterfish if he knows anything, but... no luck. He says he hasn't seen her in days, and everybody else keeps telling me pretty much the same thing – either they don't know squat, or they were too busy getting hammered to care."

"Well, can you blame them? This is a nightclub, Clover, not a library; you can't expect them all to keep their head on straight..." Xixi weighed in, resting her wings after the long flight.

"So? You'd think that with this many people, somebody oughta see something at least! My sister couldn't blend in with a crowd if her life depended on it!"

"Hey, if it's any relief, I didn't find much either," Mort said, "So basically, I just spent twenty minutes walking in circles for nothing!"

"Yeah, same here." Maurice nodded. "It also doesn't help that she looks almost exactly like you; in this lighting, it'd be pretty much impossible to tell the two of you apart. People get you mixed up as is already."

Xixi gave a little snort. "Yep, and that's the real kicker right there! There's literally nothing implying Crimson has ever laid a toe in this club – and no, whatever you thought you saw doesn't count," she stated matter-of-factly, glancing up at the crowned lemur with an annoyed scowl. "That means your sis is innocent and this is all just one big, dumb misunderstanding! Boom, case solved – now, can we go back to our booth before somebody else nicks it? I've got a pool match to win."

Clover stamped her foot, outraged at their flippant demeanor. "For Frank's sake, guys, I'm not making this up! Why won't ya believe me?!"

"No one's saying that, Clover!" cried Julien, hands held up, "We do believe you, but we gotta look at what's in front of us too, with our eyeballs! And the only thing my eyeballs see is a pretty unfortunate screw-up that no one could've predicted, but that in the end, is nothing more than that – random chance! It could've been you, it could've been Mort – totally him – it could've been anyone!"

"Yeah!" the tiny lemur laughed.

She didn't have much to say; instead, she only gazed back at the bathroom door. A small crew of paramedics were in there now, assessing the young woman's condition and tending to her wounds; if there was just a glimmer of light in this entire dark affair, it was that Club Xanadu's staff team had summoned them swiftly and with maximum proficiency, as expected of a venue of such high standing. Clover at least had that to be glad about. She refused to move from this spot until she saw the fruits of the doctors' work.

"...Why are you so quick to pin the blame on Crimson anyway?" Maurice inquired in the ensuing silence. "Xixi's right; you didn't actually see what happened in there, so for all we know, that girl could've just fallen on her own! Those bathroom floors do get slippery sometimes..."

Julien eagerly nodded his agreement. "Oh yeah, I can relate to that! It's kind of an embarrassing story though, so I'm gonna leave it there."

His comment prompted Mort to start giggling as Clover bit back a growl; when the little lemur caught the aggravated look in her eye, he shut his mouth and stared down at his feet.

"Listen, mate, people don't just fall when standing still on a bone-dry floor – especially not hard enough to crack their head open like a bloody egg!" she argued with the royal advisor then, raising a hand to her own nape to emphasize. "I know someone did this on purpose, and even if I'm wrong 'bout Crimson, you can't say ya wouldn't put it past her to do something like this, now would ya? Frank knows she's probably done worse!"

Maurice backed down; he had no argument there.

"Come on, you don't believe that!" exclaimed Xixi. Clover shot her a brief sideways look, yet remained silent. "...Do you?"

After a long pause, the crowned lemur replied, "Look, I'm just telling y'all that it adds up! It's obvious she's jealous of me 'cause of all this pageant stuff she's missing out on, and then it just so happens that the so-called 'random' girl who gets axed is a contestant too? Please! If that doesn't scream 'fishy', I don't know what does!" Suddenly, as if driven purely by her subconscious, she started walking in a tiny circle in front of everyone else, her voice raising. "Yeah, and that's without even mentioning how I actually saw her on my way here, dammit! And I'm willing to bet that she's the one who also tried to break into my stall, most likely to eliminate any potential witnesses – only she didn't know it was me, so she backed off when I yelled at her!" Here, she stopped pacing, and turned to glare into each of them. "Now, why would my sister do this? No clue, but ya can rest assured I'm gonna get to the bottom of it! Nobody gets to harm civilians on my watch! Nobody!"

Then she resumed her walk, talking to herself rather than them. With widened eyes, Xixi leaned onto the three male lemurs.

"She's getting a bit cuckoo... cuckoo..."

"Oh my, oh my...!" Clover anxiously pursued her tirade, as her tone swelled even more with distress, "What do I do if it turns out to be her? I – I could arrest her for battery like any other two-bit crook and throw her in the slammer for a while, but then...! No, I can't do that; not to my own sister! But if not that, then what? Community service? No, way too light a sentence... A stern talking-to, maybe? Gah, what am I saying, that's even worse!" She began slapping her forehead repeatedly with her fist. "Agh, think, soldier, think! Think!"

Julien cocked his brow at her. "Uh, Clover..."

But she wasn't listening anymore. "She'd deny any wrongdoing, of course, but she wouldn't fool me; I know her tricks too well. What if she resists, though?"

"Clover...!"

"How did she even get in here? Doesn't matter; I'll just get the staff to revise-

"CLOVER!"

The king of the lemurs clamored in a voice so loud, she was immediately wrenched from her trance-like state. For the next several moments, she just stood there breathing hard, her pale face flashing in and out of shadow with each passing of the strobe lights, doused in ethereal sheens of blue and purple, then red, gold and green. He would've never imagined this kind of reaction from her – but then again, the mere prospect of one's own sibling being heartless enough to do such an evil deed would certainly perturb even the bravest of warriors.

He stepped up to her and firmly grabbed her by the shoulders. They were cramped and jittery, threatening to slip out from under him if he let go for even just one second.

"Please, Clover, get a hold of yourself!" he hissed at her, "For the last time, Crimson is not here! Alright? She's not here! There must be an explanation for what happened in there for sure, but not this! You just can't run around incriminating people based on some paranoid delusion!"

"Delusion?" She frowned. "That's what you call it?"

"Yes, 'cause that's all we have! And you know I'd be the first one to stand with you if you had any kind of real proof, but you don't! So unless that crops up soon, which I don't think it will... well, I just can't watch you lose your head like this, man!" His scowl then transitioned into a sensitive smile; his bodyguard appeared to be calming down, even if slowly. "Trust me, Clo-Clo, I hate defending your sister; like, really, really hate it. But there's this one tiny little detail you seem to have missed, and that's that she's with us right now! You dig?"

Clover furrowed both brows at him. "That sounds a lil' contradictory..."

"Er, I mean she's with us, not in the sense that she's physically here with us, but in the sense that she's part of our, uhhh... 'pageant squad' or whatever. Yeah," he briskly corrected himself. "What reason would she have to flush our deal down the crapper now by getting herself into trouble when all she has to do is wait a few more days? Girl has pretty much struck gold, and you tell me she'd be willing to endanger that... over this?" He tossed his thumb back toward the restroom, chuckling. "Psch, ain't no way, sis."

Clover quietly pondered this over. Julien most certainly had a point there – in the mad rush that had been the last thirty minutes, she hadn't stopped to consider that at all. In retrospective, perhaps she had indeed overreacted... She was just so spent after such a long and tiresome day; it seemed she could hardly even distinguish reality from fiction anymore!

Julien grinned even wider as he felt the muscles on her shoulders relax, the stiff, strained line they'd been forming dropping slightly – although her expression remained the same.

"Well... I guess that logic is kinda hard to beat, Your Majesty..."

"Of course it is!" The taller lemur gave her left shoulder a quick squeeze before he at last released her. "Now take a deep breath and try to ease up, okay? That chick's gonna be fine; she's with some of the coolest, baddest docs in the kingdom – I've heard Dr. S trained them himself! I'm sure tomorrow she'll be back here shaking her moneymaker like it's nobody's business, right, guys?"

Mort and Xixi shrugged. Only Maurice concurred.

"Uh-huh, I personally don't think it should be anything that can't be walked off with a good night's rest. Concussions can get pretty serious and all, but so does medicine! These guys are professionals; they know what they're doing."

Clover heaved a weary sigh. "I hope so. Though that still leaves us with the issue of-

At that very moment, bright light shone out from behind as the bathroom door was flung open. Not a breath later, two paramedics – older lemurs branded with large red-crossed bands on their upper arms and wearing matching caps on their heads – rushed forth wheeling a gurney along, upon which the contestant was lying. The back and top of her head had been wrapped in snow-white gauze, and the cavalcade of mournful little sounds she was making indicated she had regained consciousness, albeit just barely. Her caretakers were headed for the exit, shouting strange terminologies to one another whilst urging the packs of rowdy party-goers to make way. Xixi and the lemurs shared a concerned glare; then, without even thinking what she was doing, Clover took off after them. She caught up quickly; sprinting parallel to the gurney now, she begged the two men to stop time and time again, yet it was clear they had way more important things in mind.

"Hey!" she kept yelling, fighting to keep up every time someone from the crowd jostled against her, "Stop! Stop, please! I have to speak to her!"

"Why? You know this woman?" the doctor at the gurney's lower end finally asked her. She fiercely shook her head.

"No, but I'm the one who found her! I've just got a few things to ask her – please, it's really important!"

Rolling his eyes, the man cursed to himself, then grunted a command to his partner. They studied the orange, green-eyed youth for a while, as if deciding what to do, before screeching to a safe rest – at this point, they'd already reached the club's exit shaft. From the looks on both medics' faces, it was pretty obvious neither was happy about being delayed like this. Standing with their arms out to ward off bystanders from coming any closer, they told Clover to make it quick, and she, more than ready to oblige, bent over their patient, desperate to finally get the answers she sought.

When she looked down at her, her face fell. The poor thing didn't look that much better than before – all her makeup was gone, and a few red splotches could still be seen through the bandages where the gash was whenever she moved her head to the side. She was moaning and writhing in pain, her face contorted into a pitiful grimace, a mere shadow of what could've been. Glassy blue eyes stared emptily back at Clover from behind thinned lids; it was as though she wasn't even fully aware of the bodyguard's presence, like she were a mirage fading into her vision amidst a sea of blinding lights.

Clover swallowed hard. It pained her to see someone who'd done nothing wrong in such a woeful state.

She glanced at the paramedics, noticing they were getting impatient. Time was running out. She willed her lips open, and the questions flowed on like a great river. "Hey! Psst, can ya hear me? What's your name? How old are you? What happened in there? Who did this to you? Did ya see it? D'you know anyone by the name 'Crimson?'"

The only answer she obtained to these was a very slight shake of the head, followed by a weak groan that sounded something like "no."

"Huh?" Clover frowned; she wasn't even sure if the girl was back to her senses enough to understand her. She leaned nearer in, grabbing onto the gurney's hardy bamboo frame so as to avoid touching her. "What'd ya say? Please, if you know anything – anything at all – you must tell me!"

However, it was simply not to be. The paramedics had had it with her wasting their time – time they did not have – so when they gracefully spread themselves into the same formation as before, one on each end, Clover was forced to let go.

"Alright, time's up! Show's over, people; we gotta get this patient to a hospital now!" The one whom Clover had spoken to looked back at her, his expression polite, yet coldly austere. "Sorry, Miss, but we got a job to do," he said, and touched the visor of his cap. "Good night."

And just like that, they left. Clover stood behind, observing them push and drag the gurney up the neon-drenched tunnel, remaining still even long after they were gone from her sight.

"I just can't believe this... It's like everything's going FUBAR right before my eyes, and what am I doing? Sitting here, not one inch closer to an answer!"

With a cry of frustration, Clover thumped her fist on the stony wall. Then she turned herself around, braced her back against it, and slid down till she was sat on the chilly ground, knees hugged to her chest. She'd just combed the entire restroom again in hopes of finding a clue or a single shred of evidence that she might've missed the first time around, and would give her more insight into what really could've transpired there... but so far, all she had drawn from it was an ever-growing sense of impotence. She loathed that feeling so much...

Her eyes fell to her fists, and she wearily opened the left one. Her hand was still coated in red, same as the other one; with all this running around, she hadn't had the time to wash them off. Now, the dried-out freckles endured on her fingertips and under her nails, dribbling in slim rivulets across her palm before converging into a single weathered blotch right at the center of it. Almost any other person would've been disgusted by having another's blood on them, whereas it only filled Clover with fury.

If only I'd been more vigilant... If only I'd been faster!

"Clover... you have to let it be. You've done everything you could." Suddenly, Julien's voice came to her from above. She looked up at him, closing her hand once more.

"Oh yeah? Hm, you'll have to pardon me for disagreeing, Your Majesty," was all she said.

"Well, what more can you do? It's not like any of this is your fault, or is it? You should be glad you happened to be there at all – without you, that girl would've had it way worse! Dammit, you could've even saved her life! Don't you understand? What's done is done; there's no need to beat yourself up anymore." Sighing, he extended his own hand to her; although hesitant, she took it. Once she was back on her feet, he patted her on the arm.

"You okay?"

His guardian nodded, laying her hands on her hips. "Yeah. It just... it just stings, y'know? I was right there, less than ten bloody feet away, and..." She exhaled sharply. "I dunno. This whole thing reeks of something rotten in my opinion, but maybe you guys are right. Maybe I'm just blowing things outta proportion..."

"That you are!" Xixi asserted, "Face it, Clover, all sorts of weird stuff's bound to go down during parties this size, including accidents sometimes. That's what happens when you stick hundreds of young, impressionable people into a single room, pump them all full of booze, and then turn the lights down with the music cranked to the max! None of that means there's some freaky conspiracy going on or anything!"

She shrugged ruefully. "...I guess. Doesn't make it any less sad, though. It shouldn't happen in the first place."

"Well, that's nightclub culture for you – and that poor chick sure got a hella good taste of it," noted Maurice. He understood Clover; it wasn't often she'd be unable to save someone from danger. Learning of the peculiar circumstances of this case made him think this must be weighing even heavier on her than it normally would.

"...Do you guys think she'll be able to rejoin the pageant after this, by the way?" Xixi suddenly asked the lemurs, "'Cause with a head wound like that... I'm honestly not sure myself. The time frame is pretty damn tight..."

"Ah, come on, Xixi, don't be such a pessimist!" Mort chided the toucan, "We gotta keep a positive attitude, even if frankly speaking, I kinda agree with you." He shrugged to himself, his lips bending into a childish grin. "I mean, you can't do much beauty stuff with half your face looking like a dollar-store mummy's, huh?"

"Mort!" Maurice and Clover shot him a burning glare, as he sheepishly scratched the back of his head.

"Uh, sorry. That did come out wrong..."

Clover was about to tell her friend to mind his manners when out of the dark emerged a large, wide shape. It was an employee – a scruffy lad from the janitorial crew – rolling in towards the five of them with a cleaning cart. He motioned at them with his hand as he mumbled something, though none of them heard what it was due to all the busyness in the air. In a way, they didn't need to; he was clearly headed for the women's room, so they just stepped aside to let him in. Spouting more unintelligible gibberish, he rotated his cart around and shoved the door open with his heel before going in. When it swung shut behind him, Clover pushed it back ajar to peek inside; the young man had parked the cart by the sinks and pulled from it a broom and dustpan, after which he put on a pair of headphones to keep himself entertained while he worked. Armed with his tools, he began to sweep up the remains of the girl's destroyed cosmetic kit, which he then dumped into the cart's built-in trashcan without a hint of expression on his face – all the while Clover looked on disapprovingly. A minute later she watched him replace the broom with a mop, waddle up to the bloodstains she hadn't been able to remove herself, and swipe away as he whistled along to some jaunty pop song. That was when she quietly released the door; she couldn't stand this anymore.

Nobody seemed to care about what was happening here. Even her friends were treating it as if it were some sort of game!

But not her. No, she always took things much more seriously.

After all, keeping people safe was her job. She was the only lemur in the village with any proficient combat training, which was why she was relied on for protection by all. Now, a defenseless citizen had been attacked in her presence – in the same room – and she had failed to prevent it. And worse still, she was here in the middle of a rave, unable to do anything while the culprit remained at large.

Getting away with it.

Laughing in her face.

She was almost certain this had been no accident, like the rest so uncaringly dismissed it as. Even though they actually were right in that she had no tangible proof to back up such outrageous claims, what she had seen and heard was more than enough to convince her of it.

She could still hear it, the scream in her head – that horrid, horrid sound... and the blood... warm and sticky, trickling down the fur, now caked all over her hands as a vile reminder of the extent of her failure.

Thinking of that only made Clover angrier than ever – so angry she had to restrain herself from punching a hole into the limestone behind her – but she had to be ready to accept that there was nothing more to be done. That young woman was on her way to the hospital now, where she would be safe and looked after with the very best lemur medicine had to offer – that, in the eyes of most people, would be perfectly adequate to make them forget the whole event.

Yet, as much as she'd wish to do the same, Clover just couldn't. Her conscience, the inner voice deep within her mind, simply wouldn't allow it. This wasn't even a matter of pride, or the much-loved thrill of hunting down criminals that she'd be giving up by letting this go – it was a matter of justice; of doing what was right when no one else would.

She couldn't let this end here – not yet. There had to be something more to it; something she wasn't seeing. But what?

All of a sudden, it hit her. Like lightning from the sky, a realization shot barreling down on her, infusing her with all-new energy.

Her gaze soared upwards, over the bouncing silhouettes and beyond, and straight into the tall scarlet curtains that lay at the other end of the chamber. The backstage areas!

They were the farthest, most isolated sector in all of Club Xanadu; the one place that stood far enough from all the people and all the action to be regarded as a viable hideout, since, as a general rule, it was seldom used by the public. That would give any particularly sneaky villain plenty of time to hide until the heat died down, and then plot their escape under cover of darkness. Neither Clover nor Butterfish would ever know; the latter being too engrossed managing all the new arrivals, and the former being stuck here in front of this bathroom letting it happen. Indeed, with hundreds of patrons filtering in, out, and around the club every minute, it could already have...

Therefore, Clover would have to act fast. She knew she might be just chasing shadows with this, but regardless deemed it worthwhile to take a look. In the case there was nothing there, she'd have to leave this whole conundrum behind her, and then wait for tomorrow to see how things went with Crimson; if she knew anything about it, Clover would find out in due time. For now, though, she had to get some closure, because if she didn't, she'd be spending the rest of the night not thinking about anything else.

"...Um, listen, guys." She turned to her friends bearing a fake, wooden grin. "Why don't y'all go back to the booth while I order us another round, huh? I promise it won't be long."

Julien's face lit up at the idea. "Oh, hell yeah, now we're talking! I knew you'd see reason – eventually!"

"Can never stop the party, as ya always say..."

"Ha ha, truer words never spoken!"

"Uh, are you sure, Clover?" His advisor, unlike him, didn't appear too swayed by her sudden change of heart. "A minute ago-

"Yes, Maurice, it's fine! I realized I've been worrying 'bout nothing for too long, so... y'know... where's the harm in loosening up a bit now, hm?" she explained, slowly withdrawing from the group. "C'mon, you lot go on; I'll be there soon with more pints than any of us can handle!"

She'd only made it a few steps, however, when Mort ran up and tugged at her arm insistently. "Hey, when you get back, can you and I square off at pool next?" he laughed, "That'd be great, since you got Xixi's cards wet and all, hee hee!"

"Yeah, thanks for that, by the way," said toucan huffed, "I'd won that deck from a King's Cup tourney at a singer's houseparty..."

Clover, caught unprepared, found herself madly pulling against Mort. That gave Maurice more time to examine her features – the manner in which she was obviously cringing behind that forged smile, resisting the mouse lemur's touch, saying she really had to go now when there was absolutely no hurry to... He realized right then there was something else she was not telling them.

So, when Mort finally let her be, and she scuttled away without so much as a second glance, Maurice wondered if their troubles were truly over, or if they had only just begun.