[hr][hr][center][h1][color=99ccff][b][i]Iris Kingston[/i][/b][/color][/h1][img]https://78.media.tumblr.com/fc0a9f84cac592710128220e4db8bada/tumblr_oggm69aCVN1ueno0yo4_500.gif[/img][hr][hr][b][color=99ccff]Location:[/color][/b] Driving to the Circus! 
[b][color=99ccff]Skills:[/color][/b] [color=99ccff]Perception, Photographic Memory[/color] [/center][hr]	Iris quietly hit the button to share her ride with Agent Tinder, shooting off a quick text - [i]Cabbie threatening murder, maybe.[/i] She would have added more information but she didn't want to look away from the driver. She switched the app back over to the map view, watching with a bit of confusion as they continued to head in the right direction. She knew that Americans often pointed out how polite her fellow British citizens were - and she couldn't help but be reminded of that. If this man meant her harm, he was being rather...cordial and candid about it. 

	[color=99ccff]"I cannot discuss my patients, unfortunately - I am very sorry, monsieur,"[/color] Iris said calmly. There were rules and regulations that prohibited such things - ones that Iris had no intention of breaking. It was confidential information and simply claiming to be Cynthia's grandfather did not grant him access to them. However, his words did send a chill down her spine. She wasn't sure how to respond to him wondering why she hadn't been killed. Iris naively believed it was because Cynthia knew that she was a good person - that she only ever cared about helping Cynthia get better so she could one day leave the asylum.