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To whom it may concern,

I hope this letter finds you well. I have a reason to suspect that this address houses a certain individual who may be interested to receive a letter from Piltover. I humbly ask you to respond and let me know if I am right, or if the letter has reached the wrong person.

I will respect your privacy if you so choose. I just wish to know the truth.

Best regards,
Sheriff Caitlyn Kiramman

To whom it may concern,

I have not received a response to my last letter. I don't know if it has been lost on the way, but I'm writing again just in case.

If you aren't the individual I expect to receive this letter, please let me know and I will cease with all communication.

If you are that individual, please just let me know that you're alive. Violet misses you immensely, and while I wouldn't share your status and location with her—we both know she'd drop everything and try to find you—I'd like to know if my investigation hasn’t been in vain for my own sake.

Best regards,
Sheriff Caitlyn Kiramman

Jinx,

I do not know if you have decided to ignore my previous letters, or if they simply get lost on the way. The courier is reporting them as delivered, regardless of who you are. On the off-chance you are receiving the letters, however, I’d like to update you on the current affairs.

Violet and Ekko have both fully recovered from the battle a few months back. They both miss you immensely and are fully convinced that you have passed—I did not share my suspicions with them. There was a sort-of funeral that they held for you. It was a small, private ceremony with us three and Sevika.

Personally, I think you wouldn't have enjoyed it. The atmosphere was quite sombre.

Speaking of Sevika, I have stepped down from the Council and passed my seat over to her. She is now a councillor—perhaps you will find that image amusing.

If you are interested in more happenings across the sister cities, feel free to contact me at any time.

Best regards,
Sheriff Caitlyn Kiramman

Jinx,

I hope you are well since last I wrote. Since you haven't replied to my last few letters, I won't bore you with the happenings across Piltover and Zaun—other than the fact that a museum of Zaun's history has opened in Piltover. There is a permanent exhibit dedicated to those who amount to your family—Vander, Silco, you and even the little girl you were with, Isha. There are sections to different groups in the undercity they are working on, and Ekko has put a large effort into maintaining that the different gangs are not all criminal.

Violet didn't want to be included. I think she doesn't feel like she deserves to be a part of it.

There is, however, a section dedicated to the injustices and atrocities committed in Stillwater Hold as a grim reminder of the corruption and mistreatment Piltover has stained itself with. That section saw a lot of your sister's passionate input.

She still misses you a great deal. In her free time, she has picked up metalworking, and she tinkers with Ekko. Her big project—ambitious as it may be—is to fix the Atlas Gauntlets all by herself, though I'm not sure if she will ever want to actually put them on again.

From what I can gather, she is having meetings with Councillor Sevika to learn more about you, and what your life has been like as Jinx. I’m unsure about the details, since she doesn’t speak of it much in my presence. Perhaps she believes she talks about you enough. Perhaps she believes I still hold that old fire in my heart for what you did.

If you are receiving my letters, please send any kind of confirmation. I would prefer it to be a simple letter, but if you choose to send some kind of a glitter bomb instead, so be it.

Best regards,
Sheriff Caitlyn Kiramman

Jinx,

It has been nearly a month since my last update. I realise I sound repetitive, but I cannot discern whether the lack of response means my letters fail to reach you, or if you have elected to ignore them. Either way, I find myself writing again.

I do not know how much my reports on Piltover and Zaun are of interest to you. In any case, I will focus on updating you about the people you may still care for:

Ekko’s initiatives with the Firelights receive consistent support from Councillor Sevika, and the two have developed what I would cautiously describe as mutual respect. I believe they are helming genuine progress of bridging the gap between Zaun and Piltover, though I suspect you would laugh at the notion of reconciliation committees. Violet certainly does.

She has been spending more time in Zaun lately, doing what she calls community work. I don’t begrudge her the time away; Zaun is her home in a way Piltover will never be. Still, I would prefer if her community work didn’t involve coming home late at night, smelling of alcohol.

I believe her grief goes deeper than she lets on. She might even think she is hiding it well. Either way, I’m not blameless either, I have been busy with work as the new Sheriff—rooting out corruption left behind by my predecessors, and attempting to reform the structure in which Enforcers operate, treating those in Piltover and Zaun the same. I suppose I would be lying if I said that Violet is the only one coming to bed late at night.

In any case, if these letters are reaching you, I hope you are safe and well. I know that might sound strange coming from me of all people. If they are not, then I suppose I am only talking to myself, which is an odd comfort of its own.

Best regards,
Sheriff Caitlyn Kiramman

Dear Jinx,

Violet and I have just returned from our short break away from the cities. We stayed at the Kiramman lodge, a short ferry ride from the West Zaunite harbour. I had not visited since I was a teenager, back when I competed in the junior marksman tournaments held on the island. The old range is still there, though overgrown; I could barely recognise the place I once used to visit every couple of months.

That is to say, Violet and I have had some time just to ourselves for the first time in quite a while. I won’t bore you with details—they wouldn’t interest you—but you may want to know that your sister has picked up some bartending skills. From what I know, your adoptive father—Vander—used to be a bartender before his unfortunate… demise. She would mix us drinks every day, speaking fondly of your life at The Last Drop.

It didn’t take a detective to realise the alcohol volume in our drinks was far from equal, but that’s neither here nor there.

On a different note, Councillor Sevika remains unwavering in her dedication to making the Council uncomfortable. She continues to wear the arm you made for her, and she makes it a point to snap its jaws whenever a councillor grows too complacent. I assume you would find that amusing.

As for Zaun and Ekko, he and the Firelights have successfully secured more permanent aid stations across several districts, all funded by Piltover, yet not under its jurisdiction. It is a small victory, but a long overdue one. I thought you might like to know.

Best regards,
Caitlyn Kiramman

Dear Jinx,

Today marks a year since you “passed away”. I am writing this on the anniversary itself, while Violet is asleep—or rather, passed out—in our bed. She had been sober for months at my insistence, and she truly was trying, but she went to visit your grave this afternoon and returned unsteady on her feet. I could hardly bring myself to scold her. Grief looks different on everyone, I have learned.

I never mentioned it in my previous letters, but your grave stands where your old hideout used to be. The Jinxers take care of it now. I must say it was very peculiar to see that group at first, and even more strange that they are still going strong. Your demise has only strengthened their resolve, it seems. They’ve made it… lively, to say the least. There are splatters of paint everywhere, with fresh changes and additions every day—or so I hear. Someone even welded a statue of you from piping and scraps. It's an uncanny likeness, and I think you would have loved it.

I know I haven't written to you in a long while; these days, work has consumed most of my life. We are in the midst of another stage of reform, details of which I won't bore you with. It’s a bureaucratic nightmare, to say the least. I barely sleep. I barely eat unless Violet puts something in my hands. She is an amazing cook, if you'd believe it.

I try not to think about how much distance there has been between us lately. I know some of it is my fault. I know I have been short with her, and that she catches the brunt of my exhaustion more often than she deserves.

To give you an example—Violet snores. She always snores. I suspect it’s the result of her nose being broken one too many times when she—as Ekko puts it—used to block punches with her face. Normally I find it endearing, but I’ve needed every minute of sleep I can get, so I’ve asked her to move to the spare room more than once these past few weeks.

I worry she thinks that I'm pushing her away, and that I'm cold and uncaring. I worry she thinks I do not want her near me (which is the furthest thing from the truth). I wish I had the time and energy to reassure her properly.

We've started talking about the future we might want together. We have spoken, tentatively, about an engagement. About what kind of family we would like to have. Violet is adamant about adopting children—but what she has described to me sounds more like picking orphans from the streets of Zaun. Maybe that was what you did with Isha. I wish I knew more about it. Nobody has elaborated on the details of who she was to you—the best I got was Sevika saying you were friends.

I love Violet, I really do. I want her to be happy. But sometimes I fear that we are rushing, or that she does not truly know what she wants yet. This is, after all, her first long-term relationship. She has been through so much. She deserves space to consider what a lifetime together actually means to her—I wouldn’t want her to feel like she is locked in a commitment she is not quite ready for just yet.

I know we should talk about all of this more seriously, but sometimes the mere thought of another conversation feels too tiring.

I'm tired. Not of her. Not of us. Just… tired.

I find myself wondering about you, sometimes. In your new life, did you find someone to be with, or do you prefer the quiet? Are you happier away from all of this? From your past? From us? From her? I hope so. I hope you found peace, whatever it may look like for you.

The last time we have seen each other face to face, you were curled up in a jail cell, refusing to eat, telling me to finish the job with a voice that barely sounded like you.

If you are reading this, if these letters are reaching you at all, I sincerely hope that whatever life you have found now is kinder than the one you left behind.

Yours,
Caitlyn

Dear Jinx,

I haven’t written to you in a while, which I hope you don’t mind. Judging by your continued lack of responses, however, I am pretty certain that you haven’t been reading these letters anyway, and you do not care about my inconsistent schedule.

That being said, I still wish to update you on the people you may still care about.

Ekko and Violet had been rebuilding The Last Drop—I have learned about it only recently. This is possibly why she had been staying in Zaun for extended periods of time in the past couple of weeks. Apparently, great progress has been made, though they are not rebuilding it as the bar it once used to be. They want to make it a community space, where people can turn in for resources and meaningful activities, such as courses and apprenticeships.

Councillor Sevika already applied for Piltovan funding as yet another step to righting the upper city's wrongs.

 

It’s unfair. It’s not fair that you get to disappear while I’m stuck here, drowning in work and misery.
Had a fight with Vi. You probably don’t care.

But maybe I don’t care tha t you don’t care.

You know wheat? You’re both the same, going off and disappearing when things get difficult, she’s probably out there in Zaun getting wasted and you know what? She’s not the only one who gets to get wasted

I probably won’t send this letter . Or maybe I will.
It’s not likeyou read them.
I’ve been writing to no one and honestly? Maybe that’s better than writing to someone.

And that fight? Told Vi to sleep in the other room because she was snoring again and what does she do? She starts going off about how maybe she should move to Zaun if I don’t want her here this much.
Can you believe it??? I’ve been doing everything to make her comfortable I just need to not be woken up by snoring in the middle of the night and sleeping with earplugs is uncomfortable and I hate it. It’s like she won’t consider my feelings just because she’s in a shitty mood.

So she went to Zaun, and she’s gone, and the house is empty and I’m all alone. Good. Maybe I need some space from her.
I don’t want space from her. I love her and I want her with me but she’s so unreasonable it makes my blood boil.
Maybe that’s what I deserve, I don’t know.

It’s all stupid. I feel stupid.

I’m s t u p i d.

But you already knew that. I bet you’re laughing at me right now because I made her leave and hate me and then there you are, a person she loves no matter what you fucking do, even fake your death and leave her to mourn you like some cold-hearted
I hate you. I hate you because you left and
I don’t really hate you

You had every right to leave. Maybe I should leave too. Fake my death and let it all burn.

I’m sending this letter off. Fuck it, right?

Dear Jinx,

I’m sorry for my last letter. I really shouldn’t have sent it, but I suppose the bottle of wine had clouded my judgement.

I have… news. Let’s start with the good:

Violet had come back home a day after our fight and we talked everything over like adults. We started to work harder on communicating our needs and wants, we spoke about our feelings and about moving forward from this hitch in our relationship.

Then, Vi found a letter I’ve been meaning to send you. She confronted me about it—curious and light-hearted at first. I think she thought it was a sort of diary, which I suppose wouldn’t be that far off.

But you need to know, I am an awful liar. Vi knew that something was off immediately. She all but interrogated me, and now she knows that I believe that you are alive. Understandably, she was furious that I hadn’t told her about my theory. Then, she went into a rage when I wouldn’t give her your supposed address. Suffice to say, we are not together anymore. I don’t think she would ever trust me again.

She is looking for you, Jinx. Again. I do not know if she will find out where you live, or if she goes off and hopes to find you with no direction. I have no clue where she is now, what her plans are, or in what stupid ways she will try to cope.

I’m sorry for giving out your secret. I’m fully aware that it was not my place to do so.

Caitlyn

Two weeks have passed since Violet stormed out of the Kiramman Mansion. Caitlyn had leads, sure, but nothing felt certain.

She hated it. She hated not knowing, she hated that Vi could just… disappear. Make her feel so stupid.

Stepping back, Caitlyn took in the massive map splayed on her room's floor. Notes, reports, statements, all strung through the lines marking both cities, then connected with different coloured threads of yarn.

A possible sighting in the Sumps, a bar fight that left someone with a broken jaw, empty travel logs from ticket masters… Violet would have never taken a predictable route. She wouldn't just buy a ticket.

What if she had left the cities already? Caitlyn winced at the thought, feeling her heart ache in her chest.

She should've been working on her own reports. On solving actual crimes.

And yet here she was, standing in her socks and work shirt, sleeves rolled up, trying to locate her… ex at three in the morning.

Why?

Violet didn't want to see her, that was obvious. And she wasn't Caitlyn's responsibility. There was no reason for her to stalk her, to find out where she was off to, to know if she’s okay.

Maybe a part of her still believed that things could be fixed. That she could make it right.

Caitlyn knelt down to adjust the yarn strings according to the notes she had just re-read, crossing out the false leads and marking down new dead ends.

Vi was annoyingly good at vanishing when she wanted to. She had probably learned that skill at a young age.

Cait sighed, pressing her fingers to her temple as she tried to focus.

She was missing something. She had too many blind spots, looking at it all from the wrong perspective. But if she asked anyone for more help, she’d have to explain why Vi left in the first place, and some Firelights had already been suspicious of her when she went down to Zaun the last time—

Out of nowhere, Caitlyn felt a cold prickle at the back of her neck. Something she would have disregarded just a couple of years ago.

A tiny instinct that told her she was being watched.

She spun around, heart racing, thudding against her ribcage like a confused bird. She so hoped it would be Vi, standing in the door and… smirking, laughing at her, screaming, whatever she felt was necessary.

But the door was closed, silent, and there was no one there.

Caitlyn shook her head, then focused back on the map while rubbing her temples in slow circles. She was losing it, running purely on caffeine and anxiety for the past couple of days. Honestly, she wouldn't be surprised if she started hallucinating from exhaustion soon.

But maybe she already was.

As the feeling at the back of her neck swelled again, her gaze swept across the room. Something caught her eye in the dark window: a pink pinprick. And a shadow perched on the thin windowsill.

Tap. Tap.

A knuckle hit against the glass.

Caitlyn's heart dropped. She—embarrassingly—yelped, nearly losing her balance and toppling over as the blood drained from her face.

The shadow in the window raised its hand and waved, fingers waggling in the air playfully. At that, Caitlyn forced her legs to move, even though they felt like they were made of lead.

The closer she stepped, the more undeniable the reality was:

She was wide awake.

She wasn't hallucinating.

Jinx was right in front of her window.

Caitlyn stopped one step away from the glass, her own pale face reflecting over the girl who was staring at her from the outside.

“You’re… here,” she whispered.

Jinx couldn't have heard her—though maybe she read her lips because the corners of her mouth curled up in a slow grin while her shoulders lifted in a nonchalant shrug.

Then, she pointed at the window latch.

Caitlyn's eye flicked to the brass lock, then up again to the ghost obscured by the flare of the lamplight in the room behind her.

Jinx tilted her head like a curious crow. As she did so, the thick bangs slid off her face, revealing a…

Cait's eyebrows pulled together as she tried to make sense of what she was seeing.

Outside, Jinx threw her head back as she barked with laughter, loud enough for it to pierce the glass. The sound was muffled, but familiar enough that it still made Cait’s heckles rise.

Jinx pointed at herself, then at Caitlyn, then made a little spinning motion with her finger, like she was going for a punchline.

Tap, tap, went her knuckle against the glass. She motioned to the latch again, her moves exaggerated, like an actor playing for an opera house full of audience. The way her head tilted again, now the other way, felt like she was… studying her. Like Caitlyn was the weird one between the two of them.

The hair fell over Jinx's face again, covering the solid, one colour magenta eye she'd just revealed.

Jinx was… different now. Vi swore up and down that her sister had changed. But how much so? Last time they were in this room together, she was held at gunpoint while she put on her uniform, only to be knocked out moments later.

It would be crazy to let Jinx in—Caitlyn didn’t have a weapon on hand. She was alone, exhausted and emotionally compromised.

And yet, Jinx was the woman she'd written to, despite everything. Did she even receive those letters? Did she read them? It couldn't have been a coincidence that she came back from the dead right now, after the last message she’d sent out.

Before she could think about it any further, her hand reached for the latch. One click, and the window was already getting pushed up by Jinx's hands covered in long, fingerless gloves.

Cold night air rushed into the room, carrying the distant sounds of the never-sleeping city. Jinx slipped inside with fluid ease, boots hitting the floor with the faintest creak.

And there she was. Jinx. Real and alive and… off.

As Jinx straightened up and stretched, the hood of her dirty-grey, patchwork cloak fell back, revealing her face fully: Framed by the messy, clearly hand-cut blue hair was the pale, sharp face Caitlyn partially recognised.

Partially, because there was an unnatural orb of pink that was now Jinx's right eye. It cast a subtle light against the scar that spread over that side of her head that the warped, tight flesh trailed around, ragged and irregular, coating her cheekbone and jaw, and going further down her neck and over her ear—burned skin that had healed wrong, regenerated but never truly restored to its original state.

When the light caught it just right, Caitlyn could see tiny, blue glitter-like specks embedded right underneath it, like specks of fake, shiny snow frozen in a snow globe. She could only assume it to be the remnants of the explosion at the Hexgates, the sacrifice Vi had told her about time and time again.

They both stared at each other in complete and utter silence for what felt like an eternity.

Caitlyn felt awful for gawking, but seeing Jinx like that kicked her brain into overanalysing mode, trying to decipher every change like it was some code hiding answers to questions she didn’t even think to ask.

As she stared at that shining, pink orb, she suddenly became way too aware of the gaping hole in her own head, filled with a glass eye and covered by an eyepatch.

“Guess we both got some battle souvenirs, huh?” Jinx said lightly, like it was a joke to her. Like she was visiting an old acquaintance and not disappeared for a year, pretending to be dead. Her voice was scratchy, rougher than Caitlyn remembered. A lot of her seemed to be rougher.

She stepped past Caitlyn, dragging in muddy footprints wherever she went.

“Why are you here?” Caitlyn asked, already suspecting the answer. “I thought you were set on playing dead.”

Whistling off-tune, Jinx tiptoed across the map so gracefully she didn't even nudge a single yarn thread. “That was the plan, don’t get me wrong,” she said, finally crouching down. She picked up one of the many reports, looked it over, then discarded it without care. “But that little letter of yours got me worried ‘bout my big dumb sis. So I’m here to check up on her.”

Caitlyn felt her guts knot like ropes as her brain processed the words. “… You’ve read them.”

“Sure have.” Jinx’s head snapped sideways as she met Caitlyn’s gaze. “Was I not s’posed to? Thought they were for me.”

“You could’ve replied,” Cait shot back, hands balling into fists as she suddenly felt both disrespected and completely exposed.

Jinx scoffed at that, turning her nose up. “You shouldn’t’ve written in the first place. I was dead.” With that, she turned her attention back to the map. “Now, where’s Vi at?”

“She left,” Caitlyn said curtly, hands balling into fists at her sides. “And so should you.”

Jinx didn’t as much as glance in her direction. “You gonna make me?”

“… No.”

“Didn’t think so.”

Caitlyn felt too tired for this. Too baffled. Like someone had hit her with a car and threw it into reverse.

She didn’t have it in her to argue.

“I have no clue where Violet went off to. All I know is that she’s looking for you.”

“But she’s got no clue where to find me,” Jinx hummed.

“I found you.” Caitlyn walked to her bed where she sat stiffly, watching helplessly as Jinx made a mess of her meticulous notes. “And she’s not stupid. She had two weeks to figure it out, and I… I wouldn’t be surprised if she’d left the cities already.”

Jinx stilled at that, her brows pulling together. “Where would she go?” Her voice cracked at the end, just slightly, as though caught off-guard.

“That's exactly what I'm trying to figure out.”

Jinx's solid-colour eye didn't move, Caitlyn noticed. Even as the normal one flicked across the map with sudden sharpness connecting threads Caitlyn had placed days apart. Gone was the exaggerated carelessness, the theatrical disrespect.

“I came here as quick as I could,” Jinx muttered, loud enough for Caitlyn to make out the words, though she assumed they weren’t meant for her. “‘N you just fuck off gods know where, huh?”

Then… she just plucked one of the threads loose.

“Excuse me, what do you think you're doing?” Caitlyn shot up immediately, ready to grab Jinx by the scruff and throw her back where she came from.

“You're lookin’ at it all wrong.” Jinx kept on lifting notes and reports, then rearranging the strings.

Caitlyn scoffed. “I beg your pardon?”

Jinx tipped her head back to look at her, the solid pink eye glowing faintly under the curtain of blue hair. “No offence, Sheriff, but this?” She gestured broadly with one hand. “This is fuckin’ gobbledygook. You’re treatin’ her like someone tryin’ to hide. Vi doesn't hide, I do.”

It took everything in Caitlyn not to pull her off the map and toss her out the window. “I can handle my own case, thank you very much.”

“She's a case to you, huh?” Jinx clicked her tongue. “Tsk, tsk.”

Caitlyn groaned, lowering herself down onto the bed again and squeezing the bridge of her nose. “That's not what I meant. I'm just…”

“Tired?”

Even though Jinx's tone was uncaring at best, Caitlyn's body locked up at the memory of her own letters.

“I—um—yes, but—” she stammered, took a deep breath, then tried again, this time forcing herself to sound composed. “We can talk about Vi’s whereabouts tomorrow. You must be tired after your journey back. How about I show you to the guest room?”

“Nah.” Jinx looked up with a growing grin. “I'm gonna stay here ‘n clean up your mess, Sheriff.”

Caitlyn stared at her blankly. “… Absolutely not.”

“Come oooon,” Jinx wheedled. “I promise not to redecorate. Much.”

“You are not taking my bedroom.”

“You're free to stay,” Jinx offered graciously. “I’m just gonna be here too. Movin’. Tellin’ you why your theories are dumb. Like—here,” she tugged at green yarn going into Zaun. “That's the Firelights? She wouldn't go there. If anythin’, she'd go straight for the Sumps to get shitfaced and beat someone up.”

“She could've gone to Ekko, they are very—”

“She'd break his nose just ‘cause she gotta get her anger out.” Jinx waggled her finger before setting the yarn free. “If you wanna find her, you gotta be thinkin’ like her. Angry, impulsive, fists for brains…”

Jinx didn't know Vi at all, Caitlyn realised. She didn't know that her sister was a reasonable, intelligent adult who followed logic just as any other person would. She had no clue whose shoulder Vi would go and cry on, or how predictable she really was when you really got to know her.

“She would cool off soon enough, sober up and investigate,” Cait disagreed. “She is set on a goal now, and she's stubborn as all hell.”

“Can't argue there.” Jinx rocked on her heels for a moment, then plopped down on her ass, picking up more reports. Rearranging more threads. Tossing papers all around the floor. “So you think she's skipped town already?”

“I've got no clue,” Caitlyn said in all honesty, eye twitching as she tried to ignore the growing mess. “I have no proof. No tickets. No manifests.”

“Well, duh. She wouldn't get a ticket.” Jinx tapped her temple. “She'd slip in like a stowaway.”

Cait rolled her eye. “I know. That's exactly the problem. I cannot pinpoint her whereabouts.”

“How didja find me?” Jinx asked suddenly.

The room went completely silent, broken only by the sounds of slowly shuffling paper. It felt more like Jinx was fidgeting instead of actually paying attention to what she was holding.

There was no reason not to tell her, Caitlyn figured. She cleared her throat, observing Jinx like she was a bomb with a sparking fuse.

“Going through the Hexgates’ blueprints, I quickly found the ventilation system. I figured you'd gone through one of the vents—and my investigation brought me to a blood trail I followed.”

Jinx scrunched her nose unhappily. “No shot I was that easy to find,” she muttered.

“Oh, no, don’t get me wrong.” Caitlyn did her best not to smirk. Explaining how simple it was to track Jinx felt like a little win, a tiny spark of satisfaction in the ocean of bleak unknowns. “It took a while to pinpoint exactly where you went. But by the time that airship returned to the Piltovan docks, I had enough clues to know where to look, and the crew had some stories to tell.” She crossed her legs and leaned forward, elbow on knee and chin in her hand. “I guess my investigative skills aren’t all gobbledygook. It’s nearly as if I know what I’m doing, isn’t it?”

Jinx mumbled something under her breath, this time too quiet for Cait to make out.

Suddenly, that big, unsettling grin returned with full force. “So,” Jinx said brightly, clapping her hands together, startlingly loud—probably on purpose. “Looks like you’re stuck with me.”

That instantly soured Caitlyn’s mood. She opened her mouth to disagree, but…

Jinx was somewhat right. If they were both looking for Vi, they’d end up stuck together sooner or later, assuming they both found the right lead to follow.

She rubbed her face with a quiet groan. Was there any way she could dissuade the strange woman sitting on her floor?

…

“Fine,” she finally said. The word tasted bitter in her mouth. “We work together. Temporarily. But I have conditions.”

Jinx’s eyebrows shot up. “Oooh, conditions. Love those. Have so many of ‘em myself.”

“You don’t blow anything up,” Caitlyn said flatly, counting out on her fingers. “You don’t hurt anyone. And you don’t leave without telling me where you’re going.”

“Wow,” Jinx laughed, sharp and delighted. “You’re really selling this partnership thing already. Do I get to make dumb demands too?”

Caitlyn scoffed. “I’m serious.”

“So am I!” Jinx pointed at herself, then jabbed her finger at Cait, her demeanour shifting to something cold, sudden like a flipped switch. “I’m not here to listen to your fuckin’ orders, Piltie. I come and go whenever I want, I use force whenever I feel like it, I—hmm, you know what?” She tapped the finger on her chin, tilting her head slightly. “I’m not gonna blow anythin’ up. For now. We can call it… a compromise.”

“You will not harm anyone. You shouldn’t be seen in the first place—”

“I can stay unseen perfectly well.” She raised to her feet just slightly too quick to feel natural. “I’m not gonna get leashed by a cop like—” she cut herself off, frowning.

“Like…?” Caitlyn prompted, already guessing what Jinx wasn’t saying.

“… Get outta here, I gotta sort through your mess,” Jinx snapped instead of answering, motioning to the map.

“You cannot just take over my room,” Caitlyn disagreed immediately.

Jinx let out a long, annoyed ‘Uuugh’ as she stretched her arms overhead with a lazy groan. “Man, you Pilties are real territorial.”

“This is my home.”

“And this is my project now.” Jinx retorted, the regular eye glittering with mischief. “Unless you want me thinkin’ real hard about explosives instead.”

Caitlyn’s jaw clenched.

She looked at the map. At the hours she’d spent pacing, rearranging, chasing dead ends. At Jinx, already seeing paths she hadn’t.

“You are insufferable,” she muttered.

“Thanks!”

Caitlyn stood abruptly, pinching the bridge of her nose. She was definitely too tired for this.

“Fine,” she said stiffly. “You can… work in here. I’ll take the guest room.”

Jinx’s grin grew wider. “Didn’t think you had it in ya, princess.”

“Don’t call me that.” Caitlyn grabbed her pyjamas from the wardrobe, pointedly not looking at Jinx.

“Sure thing, Sheriff,” Jinx drawled, even more mockingly.

As Caitlyn closed the door behind her, exhaustion finally hit her full force. So did sudden doubt.

What was she doing, inviting chaos incarnate into her home?

She lingered in the corridor, trying to fight the urge to burst back in and kick the supposedly dead woman to the curb.

But Jinx… understood the intricate web that was the map. She, somehow, could navigate what Caitlyn’s tired mind feverishly cobbled up in the past week. Maybe she needed a new set of eyes… or a second eye, in their case, to figure out where Vi had gone.

She sighed deeply, feeling a part of her soul leave her as she dragged her feet towards the guest bedroom.