Room 421, Friday Evening

[whateverknight]

Squall carried the last of the boxes into Rinoa's room and stacked it on top of the others with relief. They were HEAVY. Inside the boxes were thousands upon thousands of files, the criminal records of the entire country of Galbadia, and Rinoa's father was entrusting her with them so that she could determine who was or wasn't justly imprisoned.

Comments

[angelo_wings]

Rinoa crackled her knuckles, once, then took the cover off the first crate. Immediately, she blew the dust away that had settled on the records. Her father wasn't kidding about how old these were.

"He's stalling on Timber," she huffed. "Or else he's too busy to do much with it. But he's at least moving forward, or so he claims. And he's letting me do this. So ... that's something."

Yes. She was getting along better with him. She was hesitant to admit it. It might hurt more when her father betrayed her trust again.

She was pulling files out of the crate and flipping through them, scanning for information.

"Okay, good, they're typed and not handwritten," she said. "So I don't have to decipher someone's chickenscratch."

[whateverknight]

Squall nodded thoughtfully. "These should have been entered into a database," he decided. "They don't seem to have cared about these people at all."

He pulled out a file and looked at it blankly. "Do you want me to help?"

[angelo_wings]

Rinoa had already seated herself on the floor, fanning the files out around in a semicircle. She stopped long enough to raise an eyebrow at him.

"Do you want to help?" she asked. "You don't sound like you do."

'Fess up, Squall.

[whateverknight]

Squall shrugged. "Not really, but this is a lot to do all by yourself. And I don't have anything better to do."