Chapter 20: LILY'S INVESTIGATION
I knocked on the door of apartment 4A at 3:00 PM the next day.
Lily answered, her expression shifting from neutral to suspicious in about half a second. "Ethan."
"Lily."
We stared at each other. The kind of stare that happens between a kindergarten teacher who suspects you're running a cult and the person she suspects of running it.
"I heard you think I'm some kind of mind-control expert," I said finally.
"I never said mind control. I said hypnosis. There's a difference."
"Is there?"
"Hypnosis is a documented psychological phenomenon. Mind control is science fiction." She crossed her arms. "But yes, I have concerns about your methodology. Karen went from single to madly in love in two months. Sarah found her soulmate at a coffee shop. Janet is dating a woman when she's never dated women before. That's a pattern."
"It's called matchmaking."
"It's called suspicious."
I made a decision. The same instinct that told me when timing was right for romantic meetings told me this was a moment that mattered. Lily Aldrin could become an ally or an obstacle, and I preferred allies.
"Come watch me work," I said.
Her eyes narrowed. "What?"
"I have a client consultation this afternoon. New person. Fresh case. Come observe. Bring your art school skepticism. Poke holes. Ask questions." I met her gaze steadily. "I'll answer them."
"Why would you invite scrutiny if you're hiding something?"
"Because I'm not hiding what you think I'm hiding. And I'm tired of you looking at me like I'm dangerous."
Lily studied me for a long moment. I could almost see her processing—the painter in her assessing composition, the kindergarten teacher evaluating trustworthiness, the woman who had known Marshall since orientation week trying to figure out if I was genuine.
"Fine," she said finally. "But if I see anything weird, I'm calling it out."
"I'd expect nothing less."
Donna Martinez arrived at 4:15 PM. Twenty-nine years old, ER nurse at Mount Sinai, recently ended engagement. Her string led somewhere in Midtown—faint but present. She sat in my client chair looking exhausted in the way healthcare workers often did.
Lily claimed the corner of my couch, notebook in hand, watching everything with the intensity of a predator stalking prey.
"Thanks for coming in," I said to Donna. "Tell me about yourself."
"What do you want to know?"
"Whatever you want to share. There are no wrong answers."
She started with the basics—work, family, hobbies. She'd grown up in the Bronx, put herself through nursing school, worked her way up to the emergency department. She liked hiking when she had time, which wasn't often. She read romance novels because real romance had been disappointing.
"The engagement ended three months ago," she said, her voice carefully neutral. "Everyone thinks he broke it off. He didn't."
I watched her body language. The way her hands tightened when she mentioned the engagement. The slight lift of her chin when she talked about her career. The exhaustion underneath everything, deeper than long shifts could explain.
"You left him," I said quietly. "Not the other way around."
Donna's eyes widened. "How did you—"
"You tense up when you talk about him, but not in a way that suggests hurt. More like... relief mixed with guilt. And you said everyone thinks he broke it off, which means you haven't corrected them. Because you're not sure they'd understand why you ended something that looked good on paper."
From the corner, Lily leaned forward.
"He was perfect," Donna said slowly. "Good job, nice apartment, treated me well. Everyone loved him. My mother was already planning the wedding." She paused. "But I didn't feel anything. Two years together and I felt... nothing. Like I was going through the motions of someone else's life."
"So you left."
"So I left. And everyone thought I was crazy. 'You'll never find better,' they said. 'You're being too picky.'" Her voice cracked. "Maybe they're right. Maybe I threw away something good because I wanted something impossible."
I let the silence settle before responding.
"You didn't want impossible," I said. "You wanted real. There's a difference."
Donna looked at me—really looked, for the first time since she'd sat down. "Can you actually help me find that?"
"I can try."
After Donna left, Lily remained on my couch, her notebook covered in observations I couldn't read from this distance.
"Okay," she said finally. "That was impressive."
"I listen. People tell you everything if you actually listen."
"But how did you know she left him? She didn't say anything that directly suggested—"
"Body language. Word choice. The guilt in her voice when she mentioned everyone's assumptions." I shrugged. "It's not magic. It's attention."
Lily's pen tapped against her notebook. "But finding matches. That's different. You've been in New York two months. Karen's dating a bookstore owner in Brooklyn. How did you even know he existed?"
I'd been preparing for this question. The answer was technically true, just incomplete.
"I pay attention to patterns," I said carefully. "People looking for love—their behavior changes. They frequent certain places, follow certain routines. If I know what someone wants and I pay attention to who's around them, sometimes I notice connections."
"That sounds incredibly time-consuming."
"It is."
"And borderline stalker-ish."
"I prefer 'thorough.'"
Lily almost smiled. Almost. "Marshall thinks you're great, by the way. Ted thinks you're mysterious in a cool way. Barney thinks you're holding out on him."
"And you?"
She closed her notebook, considering the question. "I think you're worth watching."
"That's better than cult leader."
"Marginally." She stood, heading for the door. "Thanks for letting me observe. I still have questions, but..." She paused at the threshold. "I'm willing to believe you're not evil."
"I never asked to be believed not evil. Just not weird."
"Oh, you're definitely weird." She smiled properly this time. "But maybe the good kind of weird."
[Relationship Update: Lily Aldrin]
[Previous: Suspicious (-8)]
[Current: Curious but warming (+15)]
[+100 EXP for successful social resolution]
After she left, I started Donna's file. Her string led toward Midtown—I'd need to do reconnaissance, find who was at the other end. Another match to track. Another connection to facilitate.
But first, I had to check on Mike and Brittany.
Their string was still pulsing oddly. Still flickering between bright and dark.
The fire hadn't started yet.
But I could feel it coming.
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