Luke was in the first-floor restroom of the building where he attended his classes. He was wiping his face. A few droplets of blood stained the white sink. His ribs ached. His face was slightly swollen. But it was nothing; he was accustomed to pain.

"Perhaps I should take the day off and skip class. My face will draw attention," he thought, touching his cheek. "But the killer would never suspect that the people sent by the Laboratory to capture him could get beaten up by students..." He began to see the advantages of his situation.

His cloak was resting near the sink. He picked it up, wetting it slightly to remove the dirt stains. He then dried it under the hand dryer. Once sufficiently dry, he put it back on.

He opened the door leading to the ground floor corridor and came face-to-face with Hannah. She had been patiently waiting all this time outside the door. Her piercing blue eyes locked onto Luke. Before he could even utter a word, she turned towards the staircase to her left and motioned for him to follow with a flick of her finger.

A few minutes later, they found themselves on the rooftop. Hannah leaned against the iron railing, arms crossed, and began to speak.

"What happened?" she asked, her tone icy.

"Some... um..." Luke cleared his throat and continued. "Some people from my class were attacking someone. I intervened, and it didn't end well for me," he explained, avoiding her gaze.

Hannah let out a small, nervous laugh.

"It didn’t end well... for you? Luke? Please explain. You could jump off this building's roof and survive. I know what you're capable of. So, I need to understand."

Luke shifted uncomfortably. He regretted his decision. He should have stayed eating his sandwich on the roof, letting things take their course.

"You explicitly told me not to use my psychic abilities," he said quietly.

"Except to protect yourself obviously. You can defend yourself. You know that, right? Our mission comes after your safety. We're here, following the Lab's orders, because it's the best decision for our survival. That's it," she said, gesturing with her hands as she spoke.

"If the mission fails, we risk a lot," Luke countered.

"If the mission fails, we'll find a solution," Hannah retorted. She turned around, leaning on the railing with both hands as she gazed out at the horizon. "And you don't even need to use those abilities. Your body, without psychic enhancement, is as strong as any professional fighter's."

"The point was not to draw attention to myself, with or without powers. The killer could be anyone; we can't afford to be discovered before we know who it is," Luke explained calmly.

Hannah sighed.

"Okay, Luke. I understand your logic," she walked towards him, stopping a meter away. "But don't do that again. Or at least... I don't know... reinforce your body to prevent injuries?" she suggested, tilting her head to the side.

Luke shook his head slightly, letting out a soft sigh.

"No, if I do that, they'll get hurt. The reinforcement increases my strength and resistance. Punching barehanded is already dangerous, but punching a reinforced body guarantees injury. It's like punching a wall," Luke explained, demonstrating a punching motion. "And I'd like to avoid them getting hurt."

Hannah stared at him, her eyes softening.

"You like showing off, don't you?" she said.

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"What? No, I'm just explaining," Luke replied, a little flustered.

"Listen, just avoid getting into such situations. That's all I ask," Hannah said, her voice softening.

"We're not here to fight with students or to play heroes. Our main goal is to find that killer. That's it."

Luke nodded silently, looking down at the floor.

"And Luke," Hannah added, "I understand your concern about not hurting your classmates. It speaks volumes about your character. But remember, we're not here to make friends. We're here on a mission, and we can't afford to get sidetracked."

"I'll do my best," replied Luke.

Hannah didn't seem to appreciate his response, but she chose not to comment on it. She moved to sit by the iron railing, her expression unreadable.

Luke watched her for a moment, then joined her, folding his cloak underneath him to keep it clean. His head resting against the iron bars, letting his eyes drift across the clear blue sky. The silence was a calming companion to his thoughts, at least until Hannah decided to break it.

"I did some digging on the girl who committed suicide," she began. Her voice was detached, as if she was reciting facts from a book. "She seemed like a normal student.

Friends who speak well of her, good grades, fairly attractive. No boyfriend. She visited her family whenever she had the chance. No disciplinary issues at university." Luke turned to look at her, her face was impassive, her eyes cold and calculating like a seasoned investigator.

"So, no leads?" he asked, turning his gaze back to a large cloud drifting lazily across the sky.

"No one's that normal, Luke. There's always something to find," she retorted.

Luke chuckled at her response, "Where did you pick up that line, Hannah? Always something to hide?"

Her eyes narrowed as she met his gaze, annoyance simmering in her expression.

"Just a hunch," was all she said. She had a habit of being taciturn when she was irritated.

Luke knew better than to press her.

"So, what's the plan?" He then asked.

"Imagine this," Hannah started, standing up and gesturing with her hands. "You're standing in front of a puddle. All you see is your reflection, as if you're staring into an opaque mirror."

Luke watched her intently, trying to follow her line of thought.

"How do you see through your reflection?" she asked.

"Break the mirror?" Luke said, half-heartedly punching the air.

"Exactly, you disturb the water. You shatter the reflection..." Hannah's eyes sparkled with excitement.

Luke frowned at her, "And what does this have to do with our investigation?"

"This girl's profile is too clean, like a show home or a stock photo you find in a brand new frame. When you scratch the surface, all you get is the facade... emptiness. And we fill that emptiness with what's inside us: our desires, our fears, our secrets..." Hannah trailed off, looking into Luke’s confused eyes. She took a deep breath, lifting her head slightly.

"Let me put it simply: the best way to hide something is to blend in. To be normal, to be like everyone else, to be a mirror. We naturally project onto what's familiar, we finish the story almost instinctively. Work, sleep..."

"Eat," Luke filled in, finally catching on to where Hannah was leading.

"That's right. Our brains fill in the blanks, it's a logical process."

"So how do we break the illusion?" He asked.

At this question, Hannah sat cross-legged in front of Luke. "There are many ways, but the simplest is to question what's missing from her profile. To find that, we need to step outside the frame. So... I'm going to dig deeper into her family, and where she lived. With a bit of luck, something unusual will show up."

Luke didn't respond right away, the anticlimax of her plan evident in his silence.

"All this talk, just to say you're going to ask a few questions?" He finally said.

"Luke, have you forgotten we're chasing a killer? A former secret agent trained by one of the most dangerous organizations in existence?" Hannah retorted.

Luke shrugged, "So, we need to be cautious, I get it. But limiting our actions that much, I feel like we're not making any progress."

Hannah sighed, "They gave you this mission because your skills can help find the killer without him suspecting anything. Just keep doing what you do best. Meanwhile, I'll look beyond the facade she presented in public."

After saying this, she stood up, lightly dusted off the part of her cloak she had been sitting on, and added, "I have to get to class soon."

"Alright, have a good day, and keep me posted," Luke responded, watching her get up.

She walked towards the stairs, then turned around and said, before descending, "Luke, take care of yourself." There was a hint of worry in her smile.

"Of course," he replied, watching her open the door leading to the stairs, then disappear. A few seconds later, the metallic sound of the door closing echoed in the silence.