[center There was a routine to every day. Athena Devereaux liked this routine. It was easy to follow, kept things orderly, and kept her feeling in control. She didn't like whenever something ruined that routine. Having it messed up was the reason why she showed up to work, pulling her hair into a frantic ponytail, a half-eaten donut in her mouth, and an absent coffee cup. Anybody and everybody who knew Athena knew she liked having her coffee.]
[center Tightening the ponytail, she grabbed the donut and let out a sigh, practically falling into her chair and resting her head on her desk. [b "I like people...I like people...I really do."] No, she really didn't. She liked a select few and that was it. The people on the road or at the donut shop were not a part of that.]
[center [b [i 'Devereaux!"]]]
[center She nearly jumped out of her skin at the booming voice behind her, head snapping up to catch the raised brow and concerned gaze of the chief. [b "Yes, sir?"] she said, throwing the rest of the donut in the trash. She'd lost her appetite for the time being and she knew it wouldn't come back anytime soon. Especially with the look on his face.]
[center He motioned towards his office, which one made the knot forming in her stomach feel heavier. Standing, she adjusted her jacket and made her way toward the fancy space. One day, she hoped she could have her own office, though she knew it wasn't likely. She was lucky she had ever even made it into the FBI, to begin with. Her past was no secret, despite the fact that she tried to hide it as best she could. It definitely helped that she didn't go by her father's last name.]
[center [b "Is there a problem, sir?"] she asked as she stepped inside, the southern accent a little stronger than normal. Perhaps it was because she was still so tired. Another restless night due to nightmares. [i I really should go see a therapist...] Yeah, she'd tried that. It hadn't worked out well.]
[center He sat down in his own chair before he grabbed a file and handed it to her. [b [i "Please take a look at this."]]]
[center With a nod, she opened up the folder, not at all prepared for what was inside. Her face paled, her legs nearly buckled, and memories tore through her mind so violently that she thought she might be sick. Yet she held herself together, processing the graphic images in front of her. [b "...Are these old photos, sir?"]]
[center He quickly shook his head. [b [i "I'm afraid not."]]]
[center She set the folder down and took a seat in an empty chair, placing a hand over her mouth as her head spun. [b "It's a similar MO, but you and I both know it's not him. He's been in prison for fifteen years, now. I would've known if he escaped. Not to mention...the playing card. That's new."]]
[center The photos consisted of four women, all found deep in alleyways, chests up open, and a playing card sticking out of the wound. Each card was different, however. The Joker, the Queen of Hearts, the Queen of Spades, and the Jack of Diamonds. It didn't make sense, not just by looking at it, but those cards obviously held some significance. She just had to figure out what it was.]
[center [b "Why are you showing me this?"] she finally asked, looking up at Chief Watson.]
[center [b [i "Because of the similarity. You'll know better what to look for than anyone else."]]]
[center She hated that. She hated it with a passion. He wasn't wrong, however, and she wasn't about to turn down a murder case. She let out a sigh and pinched the bridge of her nose. She was already done with the day. Standing, she grabbed the folder and gave him a small smile. [b "I'll let my partner take a look and go from there. Thank you, sir."] She turned to leave, but his voice stopped her in her tracks.]
[center [b [i "If you can't handle this, Devereaux, then don't do it. Someone else can take it."]]]
[center She quickly shook her head. She wouldn't let her past keep her from doing her job. Her demons could stay buried for this. They would have to. [b "I appreciate the concern, but I'll be fine."] With that, she left the office, making her way back to her desk, where she threw the folder back open and began reading the reports inside.]