( … ) [ the noise was sudden, and she appeared out of the blue. the assassin’s hand slammed down on the table in front of the other woman, not as a mean to scare her necessarily, but more as a symbol of urgency and to gain her full attention. her voice, when it came, wasn’t quite her own. there was a roughness to it, a raw edge that rasped through clenched teeth — not from emotion, but from pain. a rib, maybe two, cracked or broken. she felt it with every inhale, but she hadn’t come for help. she was there to get answers. she leaned in, her gaze sharp as glass. ] you treated a man here three days ago, yes ? tall. dark hair. tattoo of a crow on his shoulder.