Dani Richards: why the SUV, Dad?

I sunk down in my seat, trying to make sure I wasn't visible through the windows. The guy driving turned to me with the hint of a smirk playing about his lips.

'I shouldn't worry, Miss Richards,' he said, his eyes fixed on the road ahead. 'These are tinted windows. You can see them but they can't see you.'

'Yeh, thanks.' I did know that. I just did not want to be here. I wanted to be travelling by public transport to my first day of work, like normal people. Why this, Dad? The SUV? To prove to everyone that I meant business? To show off that your daughter automatically got into SCIT? It was embarassing. I wanted to be known for my skills in solving crimes, as opposed to the fact that this job had been offered to me on a silver plate. Harold Richards, one of the founders of SCIT. Father of three. And now his eldest, Danielle Richards, was following her father's footsteps. Aww.

Or everyone could hate me for getting this job as a technicality, they could be oblivious to the fact that I actually am quite clever and they could completely dismiss me. They might think I'm full of crap. Once again, thanks Dad. The SUV does not help to secure a "i'm one of you" relationship with everyone else.

I stepped out, trying to mask my uncertainty with a little confidence and a deep breath. Then I saw her, and I felt my innards twist uncomfortably. It's always a downfall when you work in this line of business and you hate the sight of blood. I gulped and stepped to my other two colleagues. Bethany I knew, from various work gatherings; she'd been in SCIT for a while. She was kindof a role model for me. But this other guy...no idea. Dad hadn't introduced me to him. I put out my hand and willed it not to shake.

'Hi. Danielle Richards. Nice to be on the force.'

The End

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