6th June, 1894 — Ministry Meeting Room, DMLE Level
He was first to the meeting, which was habitual. The meeting itself was also an habitual one, a fortnightly liaison between Law Enforcement higher-ups, office heads and HODs; Evander was refamiliarising himself with the notes he had to share from his office and the other points scheduled on the agenda while he waited. Habit suggested everyone else would be four to thirteen minutes late.
“Good morning,” Evander said automatically, glancing up from his (habitual) seat at the table when the door opened. His eyebrows swiftly knitted together. “... Zelda? Is everything alright?”
He was halfway out of his seat already. Something must have happened to someone: Alfred had died, or Caroline was in labour (– she was due in just a few weeks, so Evander would be tightly-wound for just as long –), and Zelda was already taking much too long to answer him. She ought to be quicker in an emergency.
“Good morning,” Evander said automatically, glancing up from his (habitual) seat at the table when the door opened. His eyebrows swiftly knitted together. “... Zelda? Is everything alright?”
He was halfway out of his seat already. Something must have happened to someone: Alfred had died, or Caroline was in labour (– she was due in just a few weeks, so Evander would be tightly-wound for just as long –), and Zelda was already taking much too long to answer him. She ought to be quicker in an emergency.
