March 8th, 1895 - MoM

It had taken Angie a while to come to this. Between keeping a close eye on Cash and figuring what to do about Connor, Angie hadn't had much time to investigate her parents' whereabouts. She hadn't told Connor yet, about the letter she'd found, the one that told her absolutely nothing about where they'd gone beyond that Connor was now in her care. Ironic and some strange twist of fate, but she also had to figure out what to do about the house itself and everything in it. Part of the reason she'd left ten years ago was that she hadn't wanted to have to deal with all of this shit, but now she was stuck with it. Now she wanted to have all of her ducks in a row before she let Connor know.

This meant a little jaunt down to Information to see her new friend Viola. Ang thought she might be able to at least get pointed in the right direction. They'd left some money to cover Connor's tuition and supplies, but Angie knew there was going to be more to it than this. "Vi," Angie greeted with a bright smile as she made her way up to the desk. "I need your professional help." She needed a lot of help these days for somebody who for the last decade had prided herself on being hyper-independent.

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Viola Sinistra

  

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It was never a quiet day in the department, but over the years Viola had worked out a system that made it manageable on most days. And there was something to be said about the satisfaction that came in watching her inbox slowly empty over the course of the day.

She was reading over the latest memo to grace her desk--this one coming down from Pest Advisory--when Angie appeared at her desk. She smiled up at her friend, saying, "Of course. What do you need?" She set the memo back down in her inbox--it wasn't especially urgent, at least.

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