TWENTY-SEVEN | RESEARCH

I leant back in my chair and stretched. My legs, outstretched and resting on the desk, shifted and jostled my latest stack of unhelpful documents.

“I forgot what it was like to read this much in one go,” I groaned, resting my current book on my lap. “How do you do it?”

We’d been working all day, and, as of yet, we’d found nothing of substance. It was exactly what I’d expected – I’d had a hunch, nothing more, and the hunch would always remain just that. It was a vague idea, an uneasy feeling, and there was no literature anywhere in Sierra’s collection to back it up.

The sky had darkened hours ago, which made me feel even more separated from the outside world. Sierra’s flat was cosy and warm, with huge bulbs dotted across the walls, slung over her small, ancient television, and wound up the sides of her multiple bookcases. There was enough light for us to wo