The tension in the air was not lost as the day progressed but merely ignored, despite the fact none of us were fooled nor believed the others to be. It was as though nobody wanted the burden of breaking the mask. Even Scott, who had so easily asked dangerous questions earlier, hardly glanced at me.

The day was dull. We were learning coding terminology, which Scott somehow surpassed me in. His ability to take in information so quickly never ceased to amaze me. Evan, however, didn't seem surprised. If anything, annoyance would be an appropriate description.

He'd given Scott a book, definitely vintage by its looks, similar to the one I had torn the page from. Evan explained to Scott that it went over the history of old coding languages and how they were implemented into the current universal system. He told him to read it while I caught up. Once more, I tried to ignore that people seemed to make a habit of talking about me like I wasn't there.

"Surely I could just read this at the library," Scott said blankly, almost lazily looking over the book before looking up at Evan. 

"Nope, it's classified stuff! Only a few of these exist," Evan said proudly, displaying a grin as he placed his hands on his hips. This seemed to pique Scott's interest.

"If only a few of these exist, then why did you give one to me?" Scott said, a slight smile and a mischievous undertone in his voice. Despite the tension, he continued to act somewhat recklessly. I tried to ignore it. However, I remained curious as to the contents of the book.

"It's dangerous in the wrong hands, but the info there is pretty neat," Evan said, leaning over the computer and flicking through the pages, his eyes drifting over the words, "I thought you'd find it useful – again, we're a bit short-staffed, so this should help get you up to speed,"

"And you wouldn't consider it dangerous with me?"

"I trust you're smart enough not to do anything dangerous," Evan said with an icy tone, crisp and foreboding.

Scott looked as if he was going to say something, but thankfully he appeared to decide against it. I had no idea why he was acting like this, but it made me nervous. Given what had happened the previous day, I wasn't looking to get myself shot any time again soon.

"Nice hair cut, by the way," Evan said, looking at me. The way he said it seemed slightly off, and after a pause, he let out a small chuckle, "It's just... a bit uneven on the left side,"

Irritated, I ignored him. However, when he had turned away, I tried to catch a glimpse of my reflection on the computer screen. I ran my hands through my hair self-consciously as I sheepishly realized that the left side of my hair was, unfortunately, quite uneven. 

"It looks nice," Scott reassured me quietly, not lifting his eyes from the book he was reading. Instead, he turned a page, glancing at me briefly and adjusting his glasses. Embarrassed, I looked away, dropping my hands from my hair and trying to focus on my work. However, from the corner of my eye, I caught Scott glancing at me a few more times as the day progressed.

Scott was halfway through the book when we finished work, and Evan reluctantly let him take it home with him. At first, he'd hesitated, but Scott seemed to dance around the unspoken words to try and get his way. Finally, there had been a silent exchange between the two men as they stared down each other wordlessly. In all honesty, it was terrifying. 

"I would like to take back something I said a while ago... when we first met," Scott said when we first sat down on the train, heading towards the central hall to speak with Jordan. The cloudy sky hinted at more rain, and I tried to ignore the aching pain in my abdomen.

"Oh?" I said, slightly nervous at what he was going to say. Was he having second thoughts about everything? Maybe he didn't want to be around me anymore? Perhaps he saw who I truly was and decided I wasn't worth taking a risk for? After all, I had gotten him shot. My mind was reeling over all the possibilities that could follow.

"I..." he paused, trailing off, a hesitance to his voice that seemed to catch him off guard. He took a breath before slowly continuing, "I think I understand the reason for small talk now..."

I could hardly even guess what he was going to say, yet this still was the farthest from anything I could have imagined. He seemed almost embarrassed to say it, his eyes refusing to meet mine as he glanced away nervously. It took me a few moments to process what he had said as I stood there, dumbfounded.

"So, um..." he trailed off, a rosy tint dappling his cheeks. An unfamiliar shyness hid behind his glasses that I had never seen before, "How... how are you?"

"I'm... good?" I said, my answer more of a question in itself. I wasn't sure how to respond, let alone whether I heard him correctly. This was a conversation people had all the time, not even meaning anything, instead of more of a longer statement of hello. I'd answered this question a thousand times, yet it felt as though I was saying it for the first time, "How are you?"

"I'm also... good?" he answered, his answer also a question, but as if he was asking if he was saying the right thing. The whole conversation was unique and strange, and I couldn't help but smile. A giddiness seemed to overcome Scott, the corners of his mouth forming into a grin, "It... um... it looks like it might rain again,"

The severe awkwardness had us both giggling like children, the nature of a conversation a direct contradiction to the past few days. A mixture of weariness most likely tied into the feeling of looseness I found us having around each other—a small talk of how we were doing and the weather. Somehow, I enjoyed it.

The rest of the train ride, we were laughing, having as normal of a conversation as we could seem to muster. First, the topic of weather, then if we had read any good books lately. I first worried about how we must look to the rest of the commuters, talking like this, but soon I found myself no longer caring, merely enjoying my conversation.

Stepping off the train, heading towards the uncertainty that this book, the paper, and the possible knowledge we could gain, I found myself excited. Because at least now I had someone who could understand. What could happen was nerve-wracking, but having Scott beside me, I felt a sense of ease.

Making our way back through the building, I tried to ignore how out of place I felt, and soon we arrived at Jordan's office. I could see her inside, typing away on her computer as she scrambled through notes, her hand on her ear. I knocked on the door as she jumped from her seat, removing something from her ear.

"One second, Steve-..." Jordan said as she opened the door, presumably to someone she was on a call with. Her face lit up as she saw me. She hung in the door for a moment,  "Hey Rebecca, just gimme a minute,"

I nodded, and she closed the door, resuming what she was doing. Every second that passed, I tried to think of what I was going to say, the possibilities of what could happen, and how it could go wrong—the risks we were taking. But instead, I found myself nervously playing with the ends of my jacket, adrenaline racing as she made her way towards the door, opening it once more.

"Sorry 'bout that, had an important call," she said, hanging off the doorframe lightly and giving us both a smile. I felt my words catch in my throat, unable to think of what to say properly. She looked between us before continuing, "What's up?"

"Do you know someone called Theodoric Apollo?" Scott didn't hesitate, and my heart jumped as he said it. He'd been so blunt with Evan, but I expected some delicacy here. I glanced at him before nervously returning to look at Jordan.

Jordan's face dropped, and her chirpy demeanor faltered as her shoulders sagged. Her eyes darted between Scott and me before glancing fanatically behind us. Finally, her arm, which she used to hang onto the doorframe, dropped.

"Get in," she said, lightly grabbing our arms, pulling us inside, and shutting the door behind us. My heart was pounding, and I tried to ignore the panic I felt now in a closed-off room. She turned to face us, crossing her arms, "How do you know that name,"

"It was..." I paused before rummaging in my jacket pocket and pulling out the page I had ripped out from the book, trying to ignore Jake's note beside it. I'd thought about what I was going to say, and although I was terrified, there was a lack of hostility that made me slightly less uneasy, "Here... we know something's going on..."

She unfolded the paper, her brow furrowing. She looked over the paper, scrutinizing it. Seconds ticked by, and I wondered if she would notice it was a ripped out page. Was she going to call security? Perhaps I'd made a horrible mistake. Eventually, she took a deep sigh.

"This doesn't mean anything," she said, handing it back, a blankness to her tone. Her eyes drifted between us, shaking her head, "Look, it's not worth getting involved in stuff that-"

"We know about the foxes," I stammered, knowing this could be our only chance. Scott seemed to hesitate at what I said. In some ways, I was lying; I didn't know anything. But I'd seen enough signs, and from Jordan's ring to her card, I know she had something to do with it all. After all, Evan and Jack had mentioned foxes, the posters I'd seen everywhere; it seemed to be something.

So, I took a risk.

Her breath caught in her throat, her eyes scanning me. It reminded me of how Scott used to read me, something I found him doing less now. She paused for a moment, taking a deep breath, before exhaling slowly between slightly parted lips.

"Honestly, you'll give me a run for my money at this rate," she said quietly, running fingers through her hair. I found myself slightly relieved by the lightness in her voice. She continued, furrowing her brow, "We can't talk about that here... just... wait outside. I've just got a few things to finish up,"

She led us outside; a slightly padded bench was right outside the door, a fake pot plant beside it. We sat down before she closed the door behind her. The seat was uncomfortable, the cushioning the same color as the bus seats from matching day, a stark grey.

"I'm afraid to admit I don't know what you were talking about," Scott disclosed after a few moments, timidly looking at me. I shifted, unsure of how to approach the topic. I also found myself slightly embarrassed about my uneven hair.

"I don't know too much..." I confessed, playing with the hem of my jacket again. Clearly, they'd meant something, even more so with the way Jordan reacted, but I had no idea its full extent. I continued, "But it seemed to show up everywhere and... I just..."

"Tell me later," he said, and he knew what I was trying to say. Jordan's warning against speaking out here still applied, and it wasn't worth the risk. I was slightly relieved, as at least it would give me time to think of what to say.

We waited outside for a half-hour before Jordan eventually came out, carrying a satchel she strung over her shoulders. People had begun to file out of the building, and I was slightly disappointed that I hadn't seen my dad again. 

"Come on," she said, locking the door behind her with her watch, a small click coming from the scanner. We stood, unsure of what was happening. She motioned her arm towards the direction we had arrived before continuing, "Let's go,"

And so, we followed the white fox down the rabbit hole, not entirely sure where it would take us.