"Are you guys serious?"

As I glanced down at myself, I couldn't help but roll my eyes. I looked ridiculous. Even worse – like I was going to a debutante ball or a 1950s cocktail party. Like I was a living marshmallow!

Unimpressed, Sookie raised an eyebrow at my swearing.

"Ash, language! What's been going on with you lately?" she scolded me.

I resisted the urge to snappily reply with "Yes, ma'am!" Instead, I looked at her over the large mirror in the small boutique, as apologetically as I could in the situation.

But it was difficult not to curse and smile at the same time while looking at my outfit out of the corner of my eye. Sookie had dressed me in a white dress adorned with lace and ruffles, making me look even more absurd. If she added a headband to my hairstyle and got me white pumps, I'd either be perfectly dressed for a vintage Coca-Cola advertisement or the next horror film by Stephen King.

"Sook, don't you think this is a bit much?" I tried to gently coax her to change her mind once again. It was hard to convince her to change my outfit without hurting her feelings. To my horror, she was actually heading to a stand with headbands while Sam settled into a chair, evidently struggling to suppress laughter. I shot him a dirty look.

"We're just going to the next bar. I don't understand why you feel the need to dress me up..."

With a glance, she signaled me to be quiet. So I tried a different approach.

"Come on, Sook, that's not fair. Sam doesn't have to change, there's such a double standard..."

They both replied simultaneously.

"Hey, leave me out of this!"

"Since when is life fair?" She looked at me sadly with big eyes. "At least, that's what my Gran always used to say. The one who just got murdered... Which is why you wanted to cheer me up today..." She was really playing dirty. What was I supposed to say to that? Sorry, Sook, I'm still going to leave you alone in the store even though you seem to be smiling again for the first time in a while.

Stupid guilt. Stupid Southern politeness. Stupid nice people. Generally, stupid friends. I preferred it when I couldn't stand my fellow human beings! But they somehow weaseled their way into my heart and now I found myself ... caring! I sighed and let her continue. She actually had the audacity to tie a damn white headband around my head. As she stepped aside, Sam had to hide his laughter behind a cough and almost choked in the process.

"Perfect."

I gritted my teeth, so my smile looked more like a grimace. Sook stepped back and examined her Barbie (aka ME!) with satisfaction. Then, finally, she burst into laughter too and took the headband off me.

"Okay, I admit, that doesn't quite suit your style. You look like you've been caught by a mother from a children's beauty pageant. With a devoted look."

That damn, cunning... It had all been intentional! She just wanted to tease me a little. Sam had meanwhile risen from his seat and was still chuckling, looking at his watch.

"We have to go! The precinct is back from their lunch break..."

Sookie nodded at Sam over my shoulder and adjusted my outfit here and there. She pulled fabric here and there and removed jewelry and accessories.

"I'm ready now. You go ahead and get the car. Ash, arms up!"

I did as I was told, and Sam nodded too. After our delayed breakfast at the cake café, we had decided to split up and search for this "Drew Marshall" both at the registry office and at the police station.

Sookie and Sam were heading to the police station. I, on the other hand, for obvious reasons, preferred to stay away from anything with "police" written on it and was more than happy to go to the registry office. Since we had some time to spare, Sookie had dragged us into the nearest stores without much ado and used me as her personal Barbie doll. She wanted us to go out after we were done with work, and she wanted to make me "presentable" for tonight. I couldn't exactly tell her that I had been to New York clubs and knew how to dress. Ash Johansson knew how to dress, but Ashley Simmons sometimes struggled. Plus, she wouldn't have accepted a no anyway. I shook my head amusedly at so much stubbornness as Sam said his goodbyes.

"Then we'll meet as agreed in an hour at the library! Good luck!" With that, he disappeared through the door of the small boutique.

I gazed over my shoulder, feeling a pang of jealousy. I wished I could escape too. Sookie was still fussing over my attire, pulling and adjusting it with fervor. When I finally turned to face her, she stepped aside, revealing my reflection in the mirror. My eyes widened in surprise.

I looked... good. Not how I would have dressed myself, but certainly not like a wallflower or a saint anymore. Swathed in white lace, Sookie had managed to transform me into something undeniably sexy. The lace adorned my arms, neckline, and even my neck, casting an alluring siluette. Gone was the frumpy dress I had worn before; instead, a tight lace shirt now clung to my body, accentuating my curves. Dark roses adorned the sleeves, adding a touch of mystery to the ensemble. I still appeared modest, but in a tantalizing way.

I caught a glimpse of my true self in the mirror and couldn't help but grin in acknowledgment.

"Well, hello there, Ash!"

"Huh?"

"Oh, nothing! Thanks, Sook!"

She beamed proudly. "So, do you like it?"

I grinned back honestly. "Yeah, I think the change was much needed."

Sookie shrugged. "I wouldn't say needed. But I do think your new look suits you well. It feels... more authentic."

In Sookie's presence, I always had to be on guard. She noticed every detail, even without her mental abilities. My smile faltered slightly, but thankfully, Sookie was already gathering her things. 

"Alright, I'll head out with Sam then. See you in an hour!" She gave me a quick hug and rushed toward the exit.

I waved quickly after her. "See you then!"

The door chimed closed behind her, and I breathed a sigh of relief. As much as I liked them all, being able to drop the facade was always a satisfying feeling. The saleswoman, a pleasant but somewhat judgmental older woman, poked her head around the corner.

In her gaze, I could practically see her drawing disparaging conclusions after her assessment of my outfit. The top was too snug, the dress not knee-length, and my white sneakers certainly not ladylike.

"Goodness gracious. I've never seen my clothes arranged in that combination before. Sweetheart, I just got a new delivery of beautiful pumps..." she began, but I interrupted her immediately.

"Thank you, but I have everything I need! I'd like to pay, please."

I glanced at my reflection once again and grinned at myself. I hadn't realized how much I had lost myself during my covert op, right until now, as I saw a version of myself I had buried so long, stare right back at me. There it was, the fighting spirit. The strength. The cunning. It enveloped me like a warm security blanket. And all of this just from an outfit? My old ego winked at me. Quietly to myself, I said:"I'll keep it on right away."

The woman, who clearly found me unsettling after observing me in my process, looked at me with wide eyes before nodding and hurrying to the register.

When I was picked up from the library by the power couple an hour later, I was unfortunately no closer to figuring out who this Drew Marshall was. Which could also be because I hadn't spent the entire hour diligently searching for him.

The first ten minutes after my arrival, I had ingratiated myself with the information desk attendant. The poor boy's eyes nearly popped out of his head when I walked through the door in my new ensemble, something I shamelessly exploited for my search. He practically tripped over himself in his eagerness to help me, firing up every search engine in the facility in search of Drew Marshmall.

From then on, there wasn't much for me to do. To avoid the boy's pleading, salivating looks, I had been strolling through the aisles for the remaining thirty minutes I had to wait for Sook and Merlotte, letting my thoughts wander. I tried to mentally put myself in Drew Marshall's shoes. I couldn't imagine anyone in Bon Temps being a murderer.

At least not that kind of murderer. The murders were calculated, deliberate, and cold. Which was precisely why Sookie was right. Jason couldn't be the killer. 

Did I think Jason was capable of murder? Yes. Drunk and reckless, he might bash in the skull of a jealous boyfriend with a baseball bat. Or accidentally strangle a woman during sex, for which he had mistakenly been arrested before. I could attribute that kind of "crime of passion" to him, but for a meticulously planned murder spree through the heart of his hometown, he lacked a bit of the brains and emotional coldness. Jason was a damn fuckboy, not a disturbed coward. Nothing like the actual murderer of the women. The kind of person who lets an unarmed old woman bleed out in her own home. 

Not like me, who in my quest for revenge had already crossed lines - literal undead lines, but still lines, that left a mark on ones soul. Even to my future victim Eric, who had cost me the love of my life, I didn't think would murder with that kind of behavior.

Right on cue, the images resurfaced. Like an alarm clock you snooze in between.

Tom, bloodied at my feet. 

The crunch of his bones under my sole. 

The destructed elevator. 

Eric.

A shiver ran down my spine, and I shook myself.

When I raised my head again, I was standing in the middle of the history section among the books on Viking wars. A thick, bound book practically leapt at me. 'The Wars of the Northman!'

An electric impulse lifted me as if on a string, standing upright. My heart beat fast and strong.

"What the hell..."

How did I get here? As with everything related to him, I lost control again. Over myself, over my body, over my emotions. Mentally healthy people would stay away from such a powder keg. But I was almost magically drawn to it. On the other hand, you could hardly call me mentally healthy these days now, could you?

It must have been a cosmic joke. Or I must have been subconsciously directed here. Like being remote-controlled, I reached for the book, my hand trembling with excitement. It was difficult to describe. Suddenly, I just had to have this book. As if it were the most important thing in the world. I just knew that this book was important and belonged in my possession. No idea where from, no idea why, but every cell in my body awaited it with trembling anticipation, my blood rushing loudly in my ears and rendering me blind to my surroundings. As soon as I touched it, my heart returned to normal and the trembling stopped.

This reaction of my body scared me so much that the book slipped from my hands with a sudden jerk, landing with a loud thud on the floor.

"Everything alright, Miss?" The young man, not even nineteen years old, appeared at the end of the aisle and eyed me skeptically. Despite the warm temperatures, I felt cold and hugged myself after picking up the book and making my way to the reception.

I felt drained.

"Everything's fine, thanks. I think I'm just getting a cold."

I placed the book on the counter in front of me and looked at him with wide eyes.

"Would it be possible for me to borrow this book?"

He avoided my gaze and examined the book.

"Well, actually, it's an "in-house" copy that isn't allowed to be loaned out. It was burrowed to us by a generous donor and is quite old..." he hemmed and hawed, looking at me apologetically. Quite old, huh?

I sighed heavily and fluttered my eyelashes even more. I almost felt dirty leading the boy on like this, but I just couldn't shake the feeling that possessing the book was of great importance. "Oh. But I really need it urgently."

Leaning slightly over the counter, I whispered as if we were sharing a secret. "And if I promise not to tell anyone and bring it back very soon?"

The boy swallowed hard and scratched his scruffy blond curls.

"I really shouldn't..."

"We don't even need to register it. No one will ever find out!" I persisted.His ears turned red as I shamelessly directed his gaze to my now slightly exposed cleavage.

"Um, yeah. Okay!"

Quickly, he fetched a cloth bag from under the counter and threw the book inside after unlocking it.

"But please, please bring it back after the weekend! And no food or drink nearby. Don't take it into the sun. No-" The list grew longer, and the poor boy was almost hyperventilating.

Now I felt sorry for him. Calmly, I placed my hand on his and looked into his eyes.

"I promise to bring the book back unharmed on Monday!"

He looked at me more closely, apparently decided that I was trustworthy and visibly relaxed.

"Okay!" Now he almost grinned before looking back at the computer. "Oh, and your search for Drew Marshall has also finished!"

Then he looked at me disappointedly. "But unfortunately, I couldn't find anything. No photo. According to the newspaper article, he was the main suspect in his sister's murder, but I couldn't find anything else. Maybe if you go to the police, they surely have a file on the man..." he tried to help me further.

I smiled reassuringly at him and squeezed his hand again. "I'll do that."

He nodded and handed me the book in the cloth bag over the counter.

"Then I wish you good luck."

And he meant it.

"Thank you. For everything. And thanks for the book. See you Monday!"

Then I made my way outside to wait for Sam and Sookie, stashing the book in the bag where I had put my old things after shopping. Something told me I should hide the book - wherever that feeling was coming from again.