Trigger: Day 1

Word Count: 6,017

Summary of Events:

The Second National Bank's downtown branch in Kynaston was robbed of a billion dollars by an unmasked young woman brandishing a machete, which sent national news into something of an uproar, particularly because no one from Kynaston other than those in the bank who videoed, livestreamed, or live-posted the incident said a word. Spencer was unsurprised by the robbery — and by the silence of Mayor Hull and Police Chief Abbey, whom he was sure were carefully crafting their responses so they didn't get killed — as was his father, but his mother, not being a native of Kynaston, was rather shocked. Clancy, the man Spencer's parents hired to keep him calm, spoke to him about the robbery a little bit before they both headed for bed . . .

Excerpt of the Day:

It wasn’t until after Clancy had left and his slightly weary, slightly sad footsteps had receded down the hallway that he moved, striding away from his desk and over to the door.

Shutting off the light, he lingered in the darkness until his eyes adjusted, which wasn’t hard, considering the moon was waxing and the location of his study was such that the sun’s rays as reflected by the satellite, pale and slightly bluish, illuminated a corner of the room.

Once he was certain his eyes were satisfactorily adjusted to the dark he slunk out of the room quietly and made his way to his bedroom, where he undressed in the shadows before standing at his bedroom window and looking outside.

Ethereally illuminated by the moonlight were all the familiar features, the big deciduous trees that shaded the yard and were home to many birds — whether sheltering in provided houses or not — the open grassy expanse with the large water feature that a handful of ducks and geese would stop by at least for a rest although Evangeline still wanted to see a pair nest there and thus had plans to expand the water feature so as to make them feel more welcome.

This afternoon’s robbery was disturbing. Horribly disturbing. But it wasn’t half as disturbing as the fact that he couldn’t seem to stop thinking about it.

It wasn’t connected to him. It wasn’t connected to anything that mattered to him — aside from the city of Kynaston. Why did it disturb him so much? Why did it consume him?

Clancy was right. He wasn’t going to hear anything more about the robbery until tomorrow, just the same old disseminations of what, frankly, was the same old facts — even though they were less than twenty four hours old — until finally somewhere around nine in the morning a statement was made by Mayor Hull, unless Chief Abbey decided to beat him to the punch and make a statement earlier, but he doubted that was going to happen, frankly.

Sighing, he turned away from the window and climbed under the light sheet that covered his bed in the summertime. He’d much rather be consumed by thoughts of the brazen daylight robbery than thoughts of Clancy’s last comments though. He got woken up by nightmares of that moment — among others — enough all by his lonesome, he didn’t need other people helping him get there.

Such a brazen robbery, and, aside from her machete, he couldn’t say that he considered her much of the type to carry it out. He was sure he would’ve been able to identify anyone else who would’ve carried out something like that, of course, would anyone other than a complete nobody like herself be that brazen?

Every other gangster in town was known to some extent, by a habit, a symbol, a car, a style, a propensity. She was nobody. A member of the crowd. What a perfect way to get away with robbery — even with murder, for that matter.