Lucy laughed, the sound brittle in the quiet room. "I don’t do 'versions.' I do spreadsheets. I’m a nice, predictable girl."
"I’m Lucy. I’m here to return this. It was sent to me by mistake." A Nice Girl Like You
He stepped toward a canvas covered in a black sheet and pulled it back. It wasn't a painting; it was a mirror, but the reflection wasn't beige. The Lucy in the glass wore a deep emerald coat. She was laughing. She was standing on a pier in a city Lucy didn’t recognize, holding a ticket to somewhere far beyond Oakhaven. Lucy laughed, the sound brittle in the quiet room