@temphest
Years ago, he was her home. She remembers the house they owned in Detroit; she’ll never admit it but she thinks about that home often. It’d been the first thing she’d ever officially owned, and the same for him. They shared it like they’d share everything for the past 15 years. She wonders if Lucas ever thinks about it: the daisies they planted along the pathway to their front door, the mailbox they had to replace after he’d backed into it one morning during the worst blizzard since 2098, or even the mantled fireplace they had installed because of her voice piercing through the living room: my feet are cold!
The wound was still fresh of their demise: the realization that the man lying in your sheets isn’t the same man you once loved. It’d only been six years— four for her. Nina always wonders if she could have done something differently, but there’s never an answer that suffices her needs. There’s a fact out of this, though: she lost both her husband and best friend.
She’d located him residing in an apartment on the Citadel, nearing the district her apartment was in. Her body leans against the frame of his front door, her eyes flashing green then almost grey— a hueless recollection of the reason she’s here. The results of the investigation against Udina’s crimes had been finalized, office records indicating Lucas and Udina communication often. Bank statements showed Lucas transferring large sums of credits to Udina’s account, linking back to Cerberus. It wasn’t a solid lead, but it was a lead.
She wonders if their house in Detroit is destroyed, just like their fate.
“I know you were working with Udina.” It’s intended to sound like a statement. Plain and true to the facts, even if those facts are missing pieces of a jagged puzzle. The reality of her words set into place, a charge of treason dancing along the horizon. She smiles placidly, “You gonna let me in? Or do you want your neighbors to know you’re a terrorist?”