4338.206 · July 25, 2018 AD
High Society, Higher Stakes
MONA looms cold and unforgiving. The package feels heavier with every step. Inside: champagne, polished smiles, and a man Beatrix has never met but must find. Jarod appears—familiar, infuriating, unavoidable—pulling her deeper into a world she left behind. The lie about Bonorong. The gamble with Charlie's name. The gift delivered with grace. Then two words shatter everything: "The Sergeant." Some packages aren't just delivered. They detonate.
The gala isn't optional. The dress isn't armour. And the package tucked under her arm isn't going to explain itself.
Beatrix steps into MONA's glittering chaos searching for a name she doesn't recognise. Charlie Claiborne. Somewhere in this sea of black ties and curated conversation, he exists.
Then Jarod materialises—ex-something, always-something—offering his jacket, his arm, his maddening familiarity. They're seated together. Of course they are.
He leads her through the crowd. She clutches the package tighter. When Charlie finally appears, the handoff is awkward but complete. Mission accomplished.
Until Jarod drops it casually, like it's nothing: "Sergeant Charlie Claiborne, Hobart's most decorated officer."
The package wasn't just mysterious.
It was evidence.
And Beatrix just handed it to a cop.
