[Three locks of hair fall out of the envelope that Yasu opens. One short and crimson, one wavy and blond, and one neat and black. She stares at them for a moment, dumbfounded, before frantically shaking out the rest of the envelope, panic rising to her face. It's of three children (or, well, two children and one teenager) chatting on the beach, and a faded paperback copy of John Dickson Carr's Nine Wrong Answers lands beside it as well.
Yasu stares at each of the items, momentarily dumbfounded. What was she supposed to do? How was she supposed to react? The bleeding that had finally been staunched in the scant few days since Saturday begins flowing once more, and Yasu, shaking, scoops up all the personal effects and begins retreating out of the cafeteria, tears streaming down her face.]
no subject
Yasu stares at each of the items, momentarily dumbfounded. What was she supposed to do? How was she supposed to react? The bleeding that had finally been staunched in the scant few days since Saturday begins flowing once more, and Yasu, shaking, scoops up all the personal effects and begins retreating out of the cafeteria, tears streaming down her face.]