The deputy’s directions to the large residence she’d be staying in proved to be rather inadequate and had left out quite a few key details. It didn’t matter, her phone’s GPS led her to a wiry, black steel gate blocking a long driveway. Sato turned off the engine and approached the gate on foot. Just beyond the fence, a large woman in a flannel shirt and a thick coat brought the head of a heavy axe down on a bit of wood. It splintered in half without protest. She had just placed another piece on top of the stump when she noticed Sato watching. 

Sato gave a casual wave. The giantess slung the axe over her shoulder, strolling up to the gate nonchalantly. The late afternoon sun cast a long bulky shadow behind her. 

The large woman pulled open the gate with one hand; She held out the other for Sato. “You must be Miss Sato.” 

Sato took the gloved hand with minimal hesitation. The firm grip was slightly sticky and had splinters of wood glued to the inside with tree sap. The woman grinned broadly as the two shook hands. She seemed confident, friendly, and straightforward. The type of person that made Sato prone to the worst headaches. 

“Would you happen to be Mrs. Rosewood, then?” 

She simply cracked a smile and thumbed toward the tall house behind her. “Nah, that would be my wife. She’s getting things ready for you inside.” 

Sato smiled as she looked around. The yard looked like an absolute disaster, but the home looked well cared for; the pastel blue paint was still vibrant and there was hardly a scratch or scuff to be seen. 

The ornate wooden door that stood at the front swung open from the inside, revealing a plump young woman with loosely pinned auburn hair and rosy cheeks. As she stepped out, Sato could see her bright smile contrasting well with her dark freckles. 

“Amanda!” She called, putting her hands on her hips. “I asked you to sweep up the yard!” Her voice sounded mildly annoyed.

Amanda adjusted her gloves nervously. “I was going to just as soon as I finished up with the firewood.” 

Mrs. Rosewood flushed. “We have plenty of wood! Can you clean up please?” 

“Yes Ma’am.” Amanda snapped her a playful two finger salute and turned on her heel toward a small shed adjacent to the house. 

“I’m sorry for the mess now.” Her apology sounded sincere. “You must be… do you prefer Miss or Mrs?” 

Sato smiled. “Marie is fine.” Sato had long found the name Marie to be an acceptable nickname and close enough to her given name, Mariko. In theory it was supposed to help her stand out less. In practice she’d been one of only a few Asians in her elementary and middle schools, and the only girl. It wasn’t until high-school that she encountered others of the same general ethnicity and gender. Unfortunately for her, they had more easily integrated into the social structure and none of them had any common interests. 

Mrs. Rosewood pushed open the front door and guided her into a small foyer which branched off in all directions. The main hallway on the left led off to what was probably the kitchen; a carpeted staircase stood on the right leading up to the bedrooms. 

“Would you like something to drink or...?” Mrs. Rosewood waved toward the kitchen. 

“No, thank you.” Sato faked a grin and shifted her center of gravity, the weight of her bag throwing off her balance slightly. 

“Well...” Mrs. Rosewood sounded nervous. “Your room is up here... let me show you.” She flipped a switch near the railing and a light at the top of the stairs reluctantly flickered to life. The top floor had a long hallway that ran its entire length. The lightly colored carpet looked almost brand new, however that stopped abruptly at the threshold of each doorway. The first door gave way to faded linoleum, suggesting a bathroom beyond. The room next to it had an older pink carpet, Mrs. Rosewood stepped inside and felt around for the light switch. It was a long bedroom with old floral wallpaper, pushed up against the wall was a small bed. Beyond it was a loosely hung sheet that appeared to have been hastily erected to divide the room. A small picture frame sat on a small bedside table. Sato caught a glimpse of what she suspected was a family photo. Mrs Rosewood, her wife, and a tall man stood behind a pair of indistinguishable young girls. 

Mrs. Rosewood flushed. “I hope you don’t mind sharing, we weren’t expecting to have a second guest so soon.” Her voice carried a hint of concern... or perhaps melancholy. ”This used to be the Twins' room, before they left for college...” 

Sato surmised they were the identical girls from the photo. She did her best to hold an impassive expression. “That’s perfectly fine.” 

“Alright.” Mrs. Rosewood smiled awkwardly. “Well if you need anything just let me know!” 

What Sato needed, well, what she most desired was to be left alone, to which Mrs. Rosewood helpfully obliged without Sato’s prompting. A quick peek behind the curtain confirmed there was indeed an identical bed behind the sheet. 

Sato didn’t bother unpacking. She just fell onto the bed and pulled out her phone. She fully expected this visit to be brief; copycats of the Phantom Thief Clover had been on the rise for years since their all too public duel in Moscow. 

Sato began to feel sleep closing in on the edges of her mind. She barely had the energy to set an alarm before drifting off to sleep.