I parked in front of the first building, which had a small sign over the door reading FRONT OFFICE. No one else was parked there, so I was sure it was off limits, but I decided I would get directions inside instead of circling around in the rain like an idiot. I stepped unwillingly out of the toasty truck cab and walked down a little stone path lined with dark hedges. I took a deep breath before opening the door.
Inside, it was brightly lit and warmer than I'd hoped. The office was small; a little waiting area with padded folding chairs, orange-flecked commercial carpet, notices and awards cluttering the walls, a big clock ticking loudly. Plants grew everywhere in large plastic pots, as if there wasn't enough greenery outside. The room was cut in half by a large counter, cluttered with wire baskets full of papers and brightly colored fliers taped to its front. There were three desks behind the counter, one of which was manned by a large, red-haired woman wearing glasses. She was wearing a purple t-shirt, which immediately made me feel overdressed.
The red-haired woman looked up. "Can I help you?"
"I'm Isabella Duck," I informed her, and saw the immediate awareness light her eyes as though she had suddenly become aware of me. I was expected, a topic of gossip no doubt. Daughter of the Chief's Flighty Ex-Wife, bearer of his lost arm, come home at last to drizzly dark Forks, home of the Forks High School Bears.
26. Please see thought question #1.