icecoldfrost | Frost House, Massachusetts. Tuesday Afternoon, Fandom Time/Thursday Marvel Time

Emma hadn't exactly had photographs of her childhood or family home laying about her room, so this was the first time anyone from Fandom had laid eyes on Frost House, the massive structure sitting silently behind the iron gates.

Not exactly a welcoming sight to uninvited guests.

Jack Priest	"This is the right address," Jack noted, mostly because he had to say something in the face of the huge edifice. "Doesn't exactly look like the kind of place where we'll be invited in for tea and sandwiches, does it?
Peter Bishop	"Not exactly," Peter said, crossing his arms. "So, do we knock on the front door, or do we try to sneak our way in?" He was a fan of breaking and entering, personally. It was more fun that way.
Karla di Glacia	"I can get us in if we need to," Karla said, eyes narrowed and voice tight. She was hanging onto her temper with teeth and nails and it was a cold fury, not a hot one. Those bastards had taken Emma, she knew it. "A sight shield, a bit of airwalking, a little passing through walls. No one needs to know we're in until we want them to." Perhaps not the best idea, but it was the fastest. Karla liked fast.
Sookie Stackhouse	"They are home," Sookie offered, letting her shields down to feel the brains in the house. "Foggy, muddled, confusing, but home. Chances of being caught seem slim, but I'm one to just knock nicely, usually."
Alex Karev	The sight of the house made Alex frown. There was just something...creepy about it. "This is like the start of a really bad horror movie. But, I'll follow whoever can get us in. I don't think my bitching's going to convince anyone to open the door."
Peter	"We can always break in if they don't open the door when we knock," Peter said. "Though a small mob of teenagers isn't exactly a welcoming sight for anyone."
Jack	"Don't think of us as a mob," Jack answered grimly. "Think of us as concerned friends. We'll knock first. If that doesn't work ... Karla has a plan." He raised his hand and rapped smartly at the door before anyone could tell him not to.
Alex	Hey, Alex wasn't going to stop anything right now. He knew he didn't have the powers in this group so he'd just stay near Jack's shoulder and hope that maybe they could pull of the Girl Scout look that would get them inside. Too bad they had no cookies.
Violet	If they'd had cookies, Violet would have sent them away instantly. Master Winston would have exploded if he'd caught her sneaking some into the house for the girls. "Yes?" she asked, opening the door a notch and frowning when she saw it was a pack of teenagers. "May I help you?"
Karla	Karla gave the maid a small nod of acknowledgement. Not a smile; aristo families like the Frosts never smiled at their servants. "We're friends of Miss Frost," she said, careful not to specify which Frost it was. "We're here to see her, please." Dammit. They probably never said 'please,' either.
Violet	"I'm sorry," Violet replied politely, "-but Miss Adrienne isn't taking visitors today. Do you have a card you can leave?" They were all far too un-pierced and with natural hair colors to be friends of Cordelia.
Karla	All right. Time for a gamble. It wasn't like they didn't have a backup plan. "We're friends with Miss Emma Frost," Karla said. "And we'd really like to come in."
Violet	Violet cast a wide-eyed glance over her shoulder and then stepped outside, half-closing the door behind her. "Miss Emma?" she asked. "The Master won't admit it to the public, but Miss Emma ran off a few years ago when she got fed up with this house. Why are you here?" There was an undertone of 'good for her' in Violet's words, but she still kept glancing back nervously as if she expected Winston or Adrienne to pop out of the walls.
Sookie	Sookie lowered her shields, letting Violet's mood and thoughts drift into her own mind, and she was pleased to find that Violet wasn't faking any affection for Emma. Sookie didn't let herself relax, but she did smile a little bit, just to reassure Violet. "We thought she might be here, or that her parents or sisters might know a bit about where she went," Sookie said gently. "We're worried she ran off again."
Violet	"This is the dead-last place that Miss Emma would come, even if the world was ending," Violet stated, shaking her head. "But Master Winston had me air out her bedroom last week, and Miss Hazel asked for some of Miss Emma's favorite meals." "I haven't seen her, but I'm willing to bet good money that Miss Cordelia or Miss Adrienne knows where she is. Those two can't keep their fingers out of other people's business."
Jack	"May we come in?" Jack asked. "We'll be out of your hair in no time, promise."
Violet	"I'm very sorry, sir, but I'm not to let strangers in to Frost House without an appointment," Violet replied calmly. She then stepped back and turned to walk away down the hall, leaving the door wide open. "Miss Emma's room is on the second floor, East side of the mansion."

Winston Frost	The library of Frost House was a glorious thing to behold. Floor to ceiling books, neatly arranged and lovingly cared about. This generally was not a place to find Winston; usually Hazel, Christian, or Emma had sought refuge here, but tonight the Frost family patriarch was enjoying a fine glass of brandy as he indulged in one of the tomes from the shelves.
Jack Priest	This kind of setting wasn't much of anything special to Jack -- or he'd never admit it if it were -- and he bore himself casually as he wandered in, eyes bright as he absorbed every detail. "Mr. Frost," he said. "I'd say it's a pleasure to see you again, but I doubt you'll return the compliment."
Winston	"Mister....Priest, wasn't it?" Winston asked rhetorically as he barely looked up from his book. Of course, they hadn't been introduced properly, but Winston had done a lot of research both before arriving at the island, and after. It appeared his daughter had been quite busy. "I would say that it's a surprise to see you today, but we both know that's not true. Do you have subpoena or a warrant for me, or is this simply general breaking and entering?"
Jack	"I can't break and enter if your maid lets me in, and we both know I've not the status for this to be an official visit," Jack noted. "Call it a social conversation. I was hoping you'd let me call on your daughter for a moment."
Winston	"Violet," Winston sighed, shaking his head and putting down his book. "She's always had a soft-spot for Emma and her brother." Congratulations, Jack, you just got Violet fired. "Now which of my daughters is it you're here to call on? If you follow the sound of the noise, that would be Cordelia, although I would hope she's a little young for you. Adrienne is in the sun room, sulking, most likely."
Jack	Violet deserved better. "And Emma?" Jack asked. "She's not come home on the island, and we wondered if you might have some special paternal insight, Mr. Frost."
Winston	"My middle daughter is not at home," Winston replied smoothly. "Your Miss Cabot saw to that, although I hope the situation will be resolved properly and she can be returned to her family, where she belongs."
Jack	"I would also like to see here where she belongs," Jack said."We just differ as to where that would be." He clasped his hands behind his back. "So you've no idea at all why none of us have heard from her in more than a day?"
Winston	"It's not exactly unknown for Emma to take off and leave everything behind when things aren't going her way," Winston said dryly. "While my daughter has proven herself ruthless and brilliant, perhaps surpassing her sister, she is not exactly the most dependable member of the family."
Jack	"But she wouldn't have left us all this close to graduation, not without so much as a note to say she'll be back when she's back," Jack replied, and took a step back to get a better look around the study. "... also, you've been careless. She was here." At least, the purse tucked under Winston's chair looked like Emma's.
Winston	"I can assure you, Mr. Priest, that Emma has not set foot in Frost House since the day she stole from her mother and me and ran off to go be a vagrant on the streets," he stated. "If you think a stray purse in a house full of teenage girls is incriminating, you'll make a very poor legal assistant."
Jack	One of the marks of a liar was too many details. Jack was more certain than ever that the purse was Emma's, not her sister's -- the explanation was simply too elaborate if the purse were a routine bit of household clutter. "Very well," he said, distaste and boredom in his eyes, and picked his phone put of his pocket before hitting a speed dial button. A moment later, there was the responding ringtone: People like us Know how to survive There's no point in living If you can't feel the life We know when to kiss And we know when to kill If we can't have it all Then nobody will Jack stopped the call. "I've met Adrienne twice," he said. "Odd that her ring tone would be the same for my phone as Emma's is. Now, will you give me the purse so I can take a peek, or should I grab it and run out? I wouldn't bet against that, if I were you."
Winston	"It would appear that at least one of my daughters has horrible taste in music, and the other is having a bout of kleptomania," he replied dryly. Winston had placed the purse that Bryce had given him behind some books - Adrienne had been snooping again. "You are aware that if you remove it from my home, it can't be used as evidence since it was never here."
Jack	Jack gave him a quizzical look. "It's a bit bizarre how you keep confusing me with the police," he pointed out. "Even if I had the least interest in involving them -- which I can assure you, I don't -- the purse couldn't be much good as evidence because it would be my word against yours as to how I got it to begin with. But, as one gentleman to another, I can assure you I'll take excellent care of Emma's things until she turns up again. Despite the admittedly dreadful taste in music." And then he stepped forward to reach for the purse before Winston could respond.
Winston	"Since you seem to think that you can find my daughter when she's most likely not going to be found, I'm doing you the courtesy of treating you as a professional," Winston replied. "If there is one thing I have learned about Emma Grace these past few years, Mr. Priest, it is that she makes her moves in her own time." "She'll be found when she wants to be found." And she'd be found when she was good and ready to behave. The past week had shown Winston that Emma had more potential than his other three children combined. He didn't particularly care if she loved him or hated him, but he was not going to tolerate outright defiance.
Jack	"The world's only so big," Jack answered. "People have a way of turning up sooner or later. If she's hiding, the trail will go cold soon enough." He adjusted the purse over his shoulder, poking through it just long enough to recognize Emma's possessions. "And as a professional, I'll thank you for your time and show myself out."

Karla	"All right," Karla murmured to Sookie. "You'll probably want to take the lead on this one. From what I've seen of Emma's mother she needs a soft touch and I'm barely qualified to offer that at the best of times." Considering Karla was thinking about just going in and vanishing all the drugs from the woman's system and then ripping the information from Hazel's mind as she writhed from withdrawal, this could not, by any stretch of the imagination, be considered 'the best of times.'
Sookie	"You know me," Sookie whispered back. "I'll play up the doe eyes and my yes ma'ams. Best not to let her know what we can do, right?"
Karla	"Please," Karla snorted. "From what I saw of this woman, we could strip naked and paint 'by the way, we're telepaths' on one another and she'd barely notice." Unlike her husband, whose eyes had left greasy tracks on her skin. "All the lights are on but no one's home. She's swimming in drugs to keep her docile."
Sookie	Sookie was instantly, unfortunately, reminded of Lettie Mae Thornton, and what it had been like trying to reach her. Different situation, different abuses, but the mental note she made to herself was the same. "Will we need to go in and get what we want, then?" Sookie asked softly. "Or will we damage her further? You're the healer, babe. I'm just the nice girl with the freaky powers. I don't want to break her more."
Karla	"I don't know," Karla answered. "Maybe. I hate to say it but...it's a risk I'm willing to take, if it will give us Emma back." Times like this, Karla knew beyond a shadow of a doubt she was a horrible person. "If we have to, I can keep her calm while you go in. I might not be as...careful, as I ought," she admitted, averting her eyes from Sookie's. "But we'll see how far we can go with words, first."
Sookie	Sookie nodded, reaching a hand out to squeeze Karla's arm. "Whatever you need me to do, honey. We'll use our words, first, and she might help us out there. Even if she's far gone, she's still Emma's mom. She might still want to help."
Karla	Karla wasn't so sanguine about anyone in Emma's family being willing to help them out, but she returned Sookie's smile, just grateful to have another friend here. "Let's find out, shall we?" She pointed to the room down the hall. "I'm pretty sure she's in there."
Hazel Frost	Hazel was indeed there, sitting quietly as she was engrossed in L'Homme au Masque de Fer. At least now the girls knew where Emma gained her love of books. She didn't even look up as she heard people enter, assuming it was either Winston to check on her, or maybe Cordelia, who at least still spoke to her. It would be nice, if it was Cordelia.
Sookie	"Mrs. Frost? Ma'am?" Sookie said as she ducked her head into the door. Her tone was light, gentle, and if anything, she was drawing on her drawl more than usual, her words as slow and sweet as molasses. "Good afternoon. My name is Sookie Stackhouse, and I think you've met my friend Karla before? How are you today, ma'am?"
Hazel	"Oh?" Hazel looked up from her book, blinking in confusion as she regarded the two girls. "Oh, what lovely manners. Are you pretty girls friends of Adrienne?"
Sookie	Sookie cast a doubtful glance at Karla before carefully saying, "No, ma'am. We go to school with Emma. May we sit with you a spell? I have a couple questions to ask."
Karla	Karla offered Hazel a smile that wasn't too forced. "It's a pleasure to see you again. And your home is lovely," she added. "We're both very appreciative of the opportunity to see where Emma grew up." There. See? Polite!
Hazel	"Emma?" Hazel shook her head, confused. "Oh, Emma's never had any school-friends. The girls at Snow Valley dislike her because she's richer than them, and because she's so quiet. They don't know what to do with a girl that actually listens to people."
Sookie	"We're from Fandom, ma'am," Sookie said, going to sit near Hazel. "Not Snow Valley." Not that Sookie knew where that was, exactly. "And we certainly like your daughter quite a bit. That's why we need your help to find her."
Karla	Karla remained standing, lounging near the door. This way, if Hazel tried to leave or someone tried barging in, she'd be in the way to stop it. "Emma was one of the first friends I made at school, Mrs. Frost. She's like a sister to me. I'd really like to know where she is. Please help us?"
Hazel	"How very sweet. You seem like nice girls, maybe you can help Emma be not so sad all the time," Haze sighed, reaching over to pat Sookie's hand. "She's so angry about everything, and she misses her brother. He was a sweet boy, too."
Sookie	"I bet," Sookie said, not unkindly, keeping her voice low and even still. "Mrs. Frost, we love your daughter and need to find her, because we're worried about her. We want to help her be less angry and sad, but we can't do that unless we know where she is. Do you have any ideas? Did Emma go somewhere recently?"
Hazel	"Yes, Miss Cabot's office," Hazel answered promptly. "Winston is going to talk to the judge, and everything will be sorted out."
Karla	Karla exchanged a long look with Sookie. "I'm glad everything's going to work out for the best," she said, neglecting to mention her idea of 'best' probably didn't match up with Hazel's. "Do you know where she is now? We wanted to keep her company while the judge fixes everything properly."
Sookie	"And find out where we'll be able to write her," Sookie added earnestly. "Emma's such a good correspondent -- I'm sure she got that from you, ma'am."
Hazel	"Hopefully here, and you don't need to write her. You girls can always come visit," Hazel promised, smiling at both of them. "But the last time I saw her was with that Miss Cabot. Such a professional young woman, I do hope Emma lives up to her example. Her clerk was a bit rude, but he's young and his heart is in the right place." Jack would probably be thrilled to hear you describe him that way, Hazel.
Sookie	Sookie worried her lower lip, looking to Karla. << Think she knows more? >> "Miss Cabot is lovely," Sookie agreed, just to keep talking, "and so is your daughter. Emma's already very professional. You should be proud of her."
Karla	*I can't tell,* Karla sent. *It's possible she does, but isn't letting herself remember more. A protective mechanism. Do you want to take a peek to be sure?* "Emma's the kind of female to make any mother proud," Karla agreed, wrapping soothing spells around her words and directing them towards Hazel. "So smart and lovely--no wonder the females at her other school were jealous! It's hard to compare to Emma and I'm sure you had a big part in that." Babble. Babble. Babble. "Emma helped restart the sorority and we did a charity walk fundraiser," Karla continued, keeping her voice slow and even. "And she started a French club, too. Isn't that the language your book is in, Mrs. Frost?"
Sookie	"She helped me with my French, too, ma'am," Sookie added, trying to keep her voice from showing her mental absence as she lowered her shield, creeping forth into Hazel's mind. "She's very talented. My accent is awful, believe it or not." She felt intrusive, peeking forward through the layers of an unwell woman's mind, and despite her better efforts her eyes glazed over as she tuned her mind to Hazel's, sifting through the darkness to try and find what she knew.
Hazel	It wasn't hard to find what they wanted. Since the girls were here, Hazel had a sneaking suspicion that Winston had, again, lied to her. That perhaps Emma wasn't with her lawyer, like he'd promised her. But it was only a suspicion, although one borne from years caught between her husband and her middle daughter. Hazel had no way to prove it, and even if she did, she had no idea what Winston would have done with the girl. "Yes, The Man in the Iron Mask," she said, turning the cover towards Karla. "I read this and Three Musketeers to Christian and Emma when they were little, and they spent weeks dueling in the yard."
Sookie	<< She thinks Daddy Frost lied to her, >> Sookie sent to Karla, pulling away from Hazel's mind as swiftly as she'd entered it. << But I don't think she knows where Emma is, just that he lied to her about where he took her. >>
Karla	Winston had lied. There was a shock. Pardon Karla as she had to sit down. Oh. Wait. "I'll have to read it sometime," Karla said, giving Hazel a pleasant smile. Poor female. As much as she wanted to say something cruel, to upset her as much as Karla herself was worried...she couldn't. Hazel was just as much a victim of Winston as Emma. *Let's go and see if the boys turned up anything more useful, then,* she suggested, before her better nature was subsumed by impatience and worry. "We should get going then and leave you to your book," she continued aloud. "And try to find Emma somewhere else. If you see her--" ha! "--let her know that we miss her, okay? And that we're concerned. It's not like her to take off without calling. You know how responsible Emma is." There. One oblique warning. Maybe it would give Hazel the strength to demand answers from Winston. Or maybe she'd ignore it in favor of another handful of pills and her book. Either way, Karla's tried.
Sookie	"Thank you so much for your time, Mrs. Frost," Sookie said with a smart nod, her mental agreement with Karla more feeling than words. She reached out to touch Hazel's arm lightly, to make her transition out of the woman's mind more seamless, and added, "We'll let you know if we find her, since we're a little worried." No, they wouldn't. She knew that.

Cordelia Frost	Look, whatever was going on outside of her room, Cordelia really couldn't care less. She had her music, she was reading some magazine or other, and chilling out behind closed doors meant that she could just do her own thing. Always nice, being able to do your own thing. Especially when you lived under the roof of Winston Frost. Ugh.
Alex Karev	After breaking away from the group, Alex caught the drone of loud music and followed it. It wasn't like anyone was breathing down his neck and he didn't think he'd fall into some trap door so he didn't care less about snooping. The loud music seemed to be coming from this closed door and Alex thought about just pushing his way in. Instead, he just knocked. Loudly. No shave and a haircut here.
Cordelia	Ugh. It wasn't like anybody respected privacy around here, was it? Cordelia rolled her eyes and made a point of putting black polish on one more fingernail before even so much as acknowledging that there was someone at the door. Okay. Fine. If she had to. "It isn't like it's locked," she called. "I can't turn the music down. My nails are wet."
Alex	Well, that was permission enough, wasn't it? Alex pushed the door open and, after taking one last look around him, slipped inside. "And what if I'm not here to tell you turn down the music?" he asked by way of greeting. "It's shitty music anyway but hey, free country, right?"
Cordelia	By way of greeting, Cordelia was very quickly standing beside her bed, open bottle of polish held up as though she was poised to just fling it at him. "Not that free! Who the hell are you, and what are you doing in my room?" He'd knocked, so he probably wasn't a burglar or a... serial killer or anything. But she wasn't willing to take too many chances, here.
Alex	Now, Alex figured the bottle of polish wouldn't hurt but it'd piss him off even more than he was so he held up a hand and tried to look nonthreatening. "I was looking for the fucking bathroom," he quipped, keeping his distance. "Look, I'm a friend of Emma's. If you try and maim me via nail polish, I'm gonna get pissed. Chill out." He probably could have tacked on a 'please' but eh, whatever.
Cordelia, Hostess of the Year	"The bathroom is down the hall," Cordelia shot back, eyeing Alex as she lowered the nail polish bottle. Slightly. "You can't miss it. It's probably bigger than most of the houses you've ever lived in, but it'll be the one with the toilet." Of course, she was chewing on what he'd just said. A friend of Emma's? Oh, great. There was no way Winston would have let this freak into the house. ... Awesome.
Alex	"Oh, you're just a bundle of rainbows and puppies, aren't you?" Alex asked, not really expecting that to be answered. She had lowered the polish bottle so maybe he was going to be spared a knot on his forehead. "Think we could talk like normal people for a second?" he asked, trying for diplomacy. "I'd rather not get pelted with a nail polish bottle and you'd be surprised at the kind of damage I can do when properly motivated."
Cordelia	"And you'd be surprised just how quickly I can get the cops on speed dial, when I'm properly motivated," Cordelia shot back, relenting and finally setting down the bottle as she flopped onto the edge of the bed and eyed him, thoughtfully. "I'm going to go out on a limb and say that you're looking for Emma." And she didn't even need fancy voices in her head to tell her that.
Alex	"Oh sweetie, it wouldn't be the first time I've seen cops in my life. That's not a great threat," he said sarcastically. He shook that off and tried to be less sarcastic so she wouldn't end up calling the cops. "But yeah, I'm looking for Emma," he said, nodding. "People just don't tend to disappear like she has without even a note. Call me slightly concerned." Or more than slightly.
Cordelia	"I should throw the nail polish at you just for calling me sweetie," Cordelia grumbled, rolling her eyes toward the ceiling and shaking her head. "Look, she's not here, if that's what you were hoping. Winston doesn't deal with his more problematic spawn that way." There was bitterness slathered in those words that was at least several miles thick. "He's not really what you'd call the 'doting daddy' type."
Alex	"Emma calls me darling all the time, call it the Frost influence at work," Alex retorted, smiling thinly. She wasn't here. Of course she wasn't here because that would be too easy. Alex shook his head and swore silently. "Yeah, my dad was a fucking loser too. The only difference is after he got done smacking us around, he left. Small blessings, right? Do you happen to know where proud papa stuck her?"
Cordelia	"I might. And if I were to tell you where, then I'd be on my way there, next. It's Adrienne that bends over backwards to kiss his ass. I'm just the afterthought." Winston had already cost her a brother, and now a sister. He wasn't going to send her to that hell, too. "I think you can imagine just how much I'm not anxious to wind up tucked away in a pretty white fitted jacket."
Alex	Okay, Alex could understand that. He could but still, he wanted to know where the fuck Emma was. "What if we say that I beat it out of you?" Alex tried. "Or coerced it out of you? Threatened it out you? Look, if you know where she is, I'm not leaving this freaking room without the information. And I'm really fucking persistent."
Cordelia	"I'd rather we not ever admit that you were here at all, but I don't think I'll be so lucky." Her oldest sister had this way of just knowing things. Really, both of her sisters did. It was kind of disconcerting. Especially in a situation like this, where... "I want to help," she said, slowly, as she tore the back page out of one of her magazines and reached for a sharpie marker. "But I can't. I can't be any help to you at all, understand?" She was already writing down the name of the clinic on the sheet of paper. The Snow Valley Pavillion for the Mentally Disturbed. Just reading the name gave Cordelia little shivers. "And it's probably best for everyone involved if it stays that way."
Alex	"Yeah, I got it," Alex said, having just barely stopped himself from yelling at her. She was writing something and he could play along if this is what he had to do. "You can't help me so I'm basically screwed, right?" He kept watching her though. "So, all I got out of this visit was to hear some shitty music."
Cordelia	"And nearly getting coated in black nail polish," Cordelia agreed, her tone completely casual as she wrote down the address for the clinic, next. Snow Valley, Massachusetts... "Now," she capped the marker and held the magazine page out toward him. She was pissed off at Emma for taking off on her like she had, but that was nothing compared to just how much she resented Winston for what he'd done to her family. "Are you going to get the hell out of my fricking bedroom, or am I actually going to have to call the cops on you?"
Alex	Snagging the magazine page, Alex quickly read the words before folding it up and sticking it in his wallet, shoved between other things so it could be overlooked if someone caught him and searched him. "I'm leaving, I'm leaving," he assured her, stepping back towards the door. "No need for the cops, sweetie. Pleasure to meet you. Next time, dinner, right?" With those parting words, he slipped out of her room and shut the door behind him.

Adrienne Frost	It was entirely possible that Adrienne was bored. Winston had given her strict orders not to leave Frost House, and the two times she'd tried to sneak out, she discovered that Bryce seemed to have 'keep Adri home' radar. So she'd be here, for now. Lounging about the sun room and flipping through a fashion magazine until Daddy Dearest was ready to let her leave or clue her in as to what was going on.
Peter	Peter wasn't exactly feeling patient. He'd made his way to the sun room, mainly out of trying to find someone that might know something. The fashion magazine got a raised eyebrow, but Peter quickly evened his expression and spoke. "Party central here in Casa Frost, isn't it?" he said.
Adrienne	"Yes, well, you have to have taste and money to throw the best parties," Adrienne drawled, quirking an eyebrow at Peter in a manner eerily similar to the expression Emma usually wore when dealing with someone she found particularly dim. "Something a great many people lack." "If you're another one of Winston's interns, he'll fire you for talking to me so disrespectfully. Now shoo."
Peter	"I'm no intern," Peter said. "And I'm not about to shoo, either. I'd apologize for being disrespectful, but right now I don't honestly care. I'm looking for someone. Emma."
Adrienne	Oh boy, this week just kept getting better and better! "Another one?" she quipped, looking him over like a prize piece of meat. "How many boys has she got wrapped around those devious fingers of hers, waiting to defend what little honor she pretends to have?"
Peter	Peter shrugged. "She really doesn't have me wrapped around anything," he lied. "But I am the kind of guy who doesn't like it when she disappears without a word." Even though he was going to be doing that sort of thing quite soon himself. No one ever said Peter Bishop was the greatest human being.
Adrienne	"She ditched you?" Adrienne asked, faking sympathy. "Why don't you have a seat, and I'll see if I can't figure out where she went."
Peter	Peter shook his head. "I'm pretty comfortable standing," he said. "So you're saying she hasn't been here? She's not been locked away in some room by her father or any other cliche?"
Adrienne	"I don't bite," Adrienne ~~lied~~ replied, looking mildly hurt. "But no, little Emma isn't here. At least, not that I know about, but Frost House is rather large, and we don't use all the rooms on a regular basis. Maybe Daddy locked her in the attic; we'd never hear her down here if that was the case."
Peter	"And does big Daddy Frost make a habit of locking people in the attic?" Peter asked, just a little suspicious of the woman's attitude. "Is he really that much of a dick?"
Adrienne	"She didn't give you her whole sob story about how horrible Winston is, and how he killed one child already?" Adrienne asked, clapping her hands in delight. "Oh, that's marvelous. Who knew Emma was still loyal enough not to go spreading around the family dirt?" "Or is it that you're the only one in the dark, and the rest of the school already knows?"
Peter	"Ooooh, trying to get under my skin," Peter said, not really taking the bait. "I couldn't care less what Emma feels I don't need to know. Up until now, it hasn't mattered. And now that I know he's a killer, I'm very serious. You know anything that can help me, or are you siding with good old dad?"
Adrienne	That's Emma's version of the story," Adrienne sniffed, getting off her seat and coming over to stand face-to-face with Peter. "I say our darling brother was a waste of space, and it took him two too many tries to kill himself." "My sister can be a tad high-strung," she continued, reaching out as if to dust something off Peter's sleeve. All she needed was one moment of contact, and she'd have at least some relevant information on the dashing intruder so determined to save Emma from herself. "It colors her perception of events."
Peter	Peter was on guard, but he didn't try to deflect her reach. "High-strung isn't exactly how I'd describe her," he said. "But given you didn't like him, I'd say your perception is just as likely to be colored."
Adrienne	That was all she needed. Her fingers brushed over the cloth, seeing the the entire history of the shirt and what had happened each time Peter had worn it. And there, in incriminating blank-spots, was her sister. "Another one of darling Emma's conquests, aren't you?" she mused. "How many of the boys on the island has she slept with? I suppose this means the trashy one and the little one aren't far behind." Adrienne, you aren't making him like you any more. "But I liked Christian just fine, when he wasn't leading Emma astray or strung out on dope."
Peter	"We're digressing," Peter said, still not amused. "Do you actually know where she is, or not? Because I'm getting bored with your little superiority talk."
Adrienne	"Yes," she admitted. "I do. But I'm having too much fun to tattle."