Power over another person is a subtle art. Europa knows this, reflecting on how easy it had been for her to remain in the Sieta main building unchallenged. She simply made herself look like she belonged. How could anyone think to question her?
At the
top floor, a guard at the desk stops her. Only the highest level clearance here. She hands her forged card to him, knowing it
won’t pass a close inspection. But he won’t
even bother. She leans forward – just a
fraction – letting her dark hair fall over her bare shoulder. Smile.
Men are
always so predictable.
The last line though.
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