Chapter Text
--2013--
Dear Ms. White,
I'm writing to you because I need the help of your company, Arcane. Two days ago, my sister Meghan was attacked by someone, and we're almost certain they were a vampire. We know this because she's become one herself.
We don't know what to do. Does Meghan have to drink blood? I thought about donating her some of my blood, but I've no idea if it's safe. She hasn't tried to hurt me, but what if she does? Neither of us understand anything about her... condition.
Please, help us. I need to know how to keep Meghan safe and give her the best life possible. She's not a monster - she's still the same person she always was. I can't accept that killing her is the only option now.
44 High Street, Milford on Sea.
Sincerely,
Susan Taylor
Sandra read the entire email several times before she even put her fingers to the keyboard. She was a tad paranoid about missing details, especially when it came to something she valued as highly as her business. People experiencing supernatural problems had very few places to turn and she wanted Arcane to be a company they could trust. And listening to your clients was one of the first ways to establish trust.
You're not the first person to contact me like this, Susan, she thought. But this might be the nicest case I've heard so far. You actually want to help your loved one, instead of condemning her.
For a while, only sound in the room was the tapping of keys and the bubbling of her fishtank's filter. The fish inside gazed forlornly at the mess of documents, cards and keys surrounding him. On the left side of the tank, the papers were stacked high enough to block the glass. Sandra had to admit that her office wasn't the most tidy, but she liked to think of it as organised chaos. She was always able to find what she wanted in here - even if it looked like the site of a small explosion.
It was beneficial in a way. If thieves ever broke into her office, they'd probably give up before they even started combing the mess for something valuable. And if they did decide to look more closely, they'd be bewildered by what they found. Most of this stuff simply wouldn't make sense to the average person.
Sandra finished her email within two minutes and sent it off with a decisive click. There really wasn't much to say. Any further discussion about Susan's predicament would be held in person, with trained hunters who knew exactly what advice and reassurances to give her.
Closing the laptop, Sandra picked up her phone, scrolled to the third person in her contacts and began to type a message to him.