Perhaps the delay was her fault, Natasha wondered, looking around. First she showed up in a U.S. Marshals van, then it disgorged a huge pile of luggage. The school had to know who her father was - they were probably going over it again, just to be sure.
Right, she scowled. Like the Marshals would let her keep the guns and the knives she used to practice Systema with? Did they at least let her keep her épée?
No, the épée was in the back of the car. At the warehouse. With her mother.
Dimly she became aware her palms were hurting. Pulling them out of the travel vest pockets, she found her fists were balled so tightly that her fingernails were cutting into them. A hot tear landed on her palm, then another.
NO! Not here, not now! Using the back of her arm, she angrily wiped her eyes and stormed off, glaring at people to keep them away.
She found herself in one of the buildings. They seemed spacious enough, and everyone she met looked like they were wearing ordinary street clothes, not uniforms like at Coal Hill. Ahead of her in the hallway was a boy and a girl, she realized they were part of the group she came in with. The girl was handing the boy one of the two bottles.
Her eyes were red and puffy, she must look terrible. But if there was something Coal Hill had taught her, it was not to acknowledge pain, or the cliques would eat you alive. She held her head up, then gave Octavia and Crane a brusk nod in greeting as she pulled out her platinum credit card and slid it into the vending machine card slot.
The machine buzzed angrily and spat the card back out.
Scowling, she shoved it back in, and it just as angrily spat it back out. It didn't want to accept her card...?
From her messenger bag, she pulled out her smart phone, to text her dad. But to her surprise, it said "No service" when the screen turned on.
Stepping back, she could see others around them using their phones just fine, so why...?
The phone slipped from her hand to clatter on the floor as it hit her, her mouth forming a near perfect circle.
The marshals must have frozen all the accounts.
She sat down, pulling her knees to her chest and burying her face in her knees, not caring about being in the middle of the hallway. Of course. How... stupid of her not to realize! There would be accounts the marshals couldn't touch, but until her father's lawyers contacted her, she was penniless, like one of the scholarship girls back at Coal Hill!
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