[hr][hr][center][h1][b][i][color=B0E0E6][center]Lucinda Partridge[/center][/color][/i][/b][/h1]
[img]https://i.imgur.com/GlKPj26.gif[/img]
Location: Back at the Seattle Times office
Interacting with: Colleagues & Boss (NPCs)[/center][hr][hr]

Johnathon looked towards Lucinda for a moment, seeming to decide if her excuse seemed legitimate. Luckily he deemed it so before turning his attention back to the rest of the staff that watched the display earnestly and told them to get back to their work. Some obliged immediately, a couple flashed Lucinda a concerned look (she hoped they hadn't heard her words) and some sighed, a couple even looking at Lucinda annoyed as their boss made his way back to his office. For some people days like these were rather dull so the took a hold of any possible drama that appeared, perhaps that's why most reporters tend to dramatize everything. Honesty, Lucinda pitied it when people needed drama just to have some interest in their lives. 

She gave a sigh, shrugging off the glances and turned back to her computer to find the number of the ME had sat right in the middle of the open webpage. After the unexplainable event with Amelia it felt like so long ago, she'd practically forgotten. Honestly every report had said nothing more then what she had gathered from her dream, not even that. Let's be honest, though, who's going to buy 'I know this because I saw it in a dream' as fact? Barely anyone. She gave a sigh and called the number, a chill going down her spine as she remembered the creature that killed the girl look at her, as if she was next. 

She slowly dialled the number to be answered by a clear male voice, "Hello, Michael Smith, Medical Examiner for the Philadelphia Police Department, what can I do for you?"

Lucinda took a deep breathe, suppressing the image of the shadowy figure looking at her. [color=B0E0E6]Good morning, Michael,"[/color] she replies, [color=B0E0E6]I'm Lucinda Partridge of The Seattle Times and I have a few questions for you,"[/color]