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bait_backup*Rita sits slumped over her files, her cheek smothering a stolen invoice for blood replenishing potions. Though her eyes are pressed shut, she isn’t sleeping, not really. Instead she dwells behind her eyelids, forcing them tightly against her irises in indignation.
...“we regret to inform you”...
...“unsuitable for publication.”...
She can see her superior’s neat typeface in her mind, his blasted words echoing back to her in the wrong order, their meaning however, remaining perfectly intact. She listens and she curses that niggling reporter’s intuition, that damned insatiable need for dirt that started all of this. The history of the Crouch family is spread out before her. Sickness, madness and scandal, it’s a family tragedy waiting to happen, Rita can taste it, see it, feel it. The public would lap it up like dogs. She had something here. She really had something. Cuffe is nothing but a fool and a panderer.*
...“we regret to inform you”...
...“unsuitable for publication.”...
She can see her superior’s neat typeface in her mind, his blasted words echoing back to her in the wrong order, their meaning however, remaining perfectly intact. She listens and she curses that niggling reporter’s intuition, that damned insatiable need for dirt that started all of this. The history of the Crouch family is spread out before her. Sickness, madness and scandal, it’s a family tragedy waiting to happen, Rita can taste it, see it, feel it. The public would lap it up like dogs. She had something here. She really had something. Cuffe is nothing but a fool and a panderer.*
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