The bar was dimly lit, rundown, and scruffy. Yet, somehow, it still attracted crowds of locals every evening and today was no different to most. Sports played on the TV in the corner, occasionally switching to the news channel during half-time or between games.

Jessica wasn’t sure how long she’d been sat there, alone, but she did know that she was on her fourth whiskey and sixth time of going over and over her thoughts in hopes to clear her head. So far, she had failed. Not even the liquor was stopping the storm in her head. Blurring it, sure, but not dulling it.

When you came to sit beside her on the bar stools, she looked at you in questioning judgement. You hadn’t met her gaze yet, too busy ordering a drink, so she took the moment to study you. It was surprising quite how much information she could gather from you in that moment… then again, she was a good private investigator.