That three could keep a secret if only two where dead was quite the ignorant statement. Thinking that it all came down to the third... Oh no no no no. Being dead was never a garantue, people where and would never seize to be, thankfully for Miranda, dumb. A note here, a number there... Maybe a half burnt photo in the garbage can or a long ago broken toy with a distinct smell...<br/><br/>And keeping a secret all to yourself is hard work, getting ridd of evidence, never getting ridd of too much...<br/><br/>No. The key to keeping a secret with three was to never let two of them know it was a secret in the first place. What you don´t know, you can´t hide. And hidden things stand out very clear to certain people.<br/><br/>Like the greasy and gasoline stained calling card Miranda flipped between her spindly fingers while eyeing it almost hungrily, such an insignificant little thing and yet what made it all make sense.<br/><br/><em>Oh my mister chairman, what an awfull thing to do... And to your own daughter aswell... How lucky that I know exactly what you´ll pay for it. Too bad your daughter wont thrive on it though.</em><br/><br/>Leaning back in her most comfortable office chair Miranda slipped the card into a plastic bag, putting it for relative safety in her notepad. Five passed six there was no one left at the office except for night-shift guards so while she did definently want to stretch like a cat and sag together in her most mundane form, the dreaming was too thick for that right now, with the sudden revelation and all. Hence the slight mournfull sigh pushed through softly parted lips on a toothless smile as Miranda retained her excellent stature, tightly clenched and laced as she was. How her unspeakable undergarments managed to take inches of her waist was a mystery, there had never seemed like there was inches to take from.<br/><br/>A sting of guilt forced her to look at the watch, there was after all a certain young lady sitting at home waiting for her dear aunt but Alessandra had payed the baby-sitter to be there untill midnight in case there was any last minute plans. Only problem was that there where no such plans so far.<br/><br/>Sliding up from her chair Miranda went for the cabinet in her moderatly sized office, when it came to decorating it her boss had full understanding of why she needed expensive furniture that screamed quietly about proffessionalism and trust- at second thought Miranda remembered that she had a special vacation in the Bahamas to thank for that, while passing the mirror at the same time. Throwing a look in it Miranda nearly smirked.<br/><br/><em>Gloomy... How appropriate.</em><br/><br/>That Miranda Bockton could be called attractive, beautiful and surely a dozen of other complimentary adjectives was a given but being beautiful was so very dull. Character, magnetism and savoir faire satisfied her more. And to be honest, Miranda tried her very best to be seen in her invisibility or rather to be seen when she wanted to while making people believe that she thought herself unnoticed. Miranda eyed her reflection with liking, her small nuggets of glittering darkness for eyes had a quite catching shadow, her lashes nearing artwork in how they caged her eyes. And she could definently not complain about the paleness of her skin or the slight blue tone to her veins, that simply made her red cheeks and high cheekbones stand out more. Of course, no redness to the cheeks could ever distract from her delicatly plump lips or their almost smothered plum colour. And even a sluagh could have a bosom, especially when wearing unspeakable undergarments beneath a dinner dress. Adding a lace shawl to supposedly cover that mentioned bosom brought a perfect framework while the silk of the dress had just the right amount of shine to let luster play along the edges of her curved body.<br/><br/>Such an appearance certainly deserved a treat. Yes, a tastefull, delicious little morsel to celebrate the discovery of yet another secret. Miranda opened a drawer in the cabinet where she stored her little treats, picking up a tin foil covered plate. Folding only a corner open she inhaled deeply and lustfully, the scent of a bundt gone stale and bad intoxicated her for a moment. She had recieved it two weeks prior as she had attended a former classmate´s funeral, the bundt was even lovelier because of that, baked with love for someone so vicious and mean in life.<br/><br/>Miranda would certainly enjoy that treat.