Bushra made to leave shortly after we finished eating, beginning her trek back to the south bay, and home where her parents waited.

"I'll be fine," she waved brightly, but her smile was thin and tenuous. I waved back hesitantly. Bushra's family was her business, but a part of me was hoping she'd stay over again. Keep close where I could protect her. Which was stupid, since if anything she was the one always helping me.

"I'll walk you to your car," Kris offered, shrugging on her coat. Despite the literally liters of empty wine bottles on the table among the empty pizza boxes, both of them were completely sober. I'd surreptitiously checked their status to be sure, but both of their conditions were Normal. I was feeling a bit warm myself, but I'd seen Swift Regeneration kick in a bit ago, and the floaty feeling was rapidly fading. I had mixed feelings about that.

"I'll text you when I get home," Kris smiled from the doorway. Then the door shut. I stood staring at the worn wood in silence, listening to their retreating footsteps, before I reached out and turned the deadbolt with an audible click.

✦ ✦ ✦

For the first time in what felt like ages, I woke up in my own bed, alone in the house.

It was Thursday morning. One week ago today I'd woken up just like this. I'd showered, dressed, and went to work. Like nearly every other day before that. One week.

I threw the covers back and walked blearily into the kitchen to make a cup of coffee. While I was waiting for the water to boil, I looked around the room. Aside from the debris of last night's meal, everything was in order and in place. Normal. The sun was only starting to make itself known, the buildings outside my window black shapes against the brightening sky. Outlines of orange tipped a few clouds that remained, a preview of the sunrise to come. The coffee machine beeped and I dropped in the pod and hit the button.

A sudden noise from the front room disrupted my daze. I started toward the room in a hurry, and stopped still at the threshold.

A furry black and orange blur darted out the other doorway to the hall. At the scene of the crime lay an upended pizza box, a few pepperoni and crumbs of crust strewn across the floor. Little claws skittered on the wooden floor as she made her escape.

"Taiga!" I yelled in exasperation accompanied by a strange feeling of disappointment. I went and knelt down to collect the remnants of pizza back into the box. Then I picked up both boxes and carried them over to the compost bin in the kitchen, dumping the larger bits inside the bin before setting the large boxes on their side next to it. Then I recovered the empty wine bottles and set them by the recycling. Finally, I took a roll of paper towels and a spray cleaner to wipe up the rest of the greasy crumbs from the floor and table. By this time, Taiga had slunk back nonchalantly to the hallway entrance and was washing her face with her paws. Did something happen? Her body language proclaimed. She wouldn't know. She was somewhere else. Doing something perfectly fine.

I sat on the floor and looked around at the empty room. It was the same as always. It was the same. So why was I on edge? I shook my head at the tangle of feelings in my chest, and stood to collect my coffee.

There was one thing truly different, I thought as I doctored my coffee before taking a cautious sip. I didn't have anywhere to be, or anyone expecting me. I'd had relaxing, do-nothing days before, by plan or by accident. But this was different. This floating, untethered feeling was new. I hadn't had time in the last week to really let it sink in. Now it seemed all I had was time in front of me, and it was daunting.

Unwilling to sit still and be swallowed up by the silence, I went about my normal morning routine. I paused after taking a shower and considered my wardrobe. Eventually I shrugged and pulled on a pair of comfortable jeans and a white t-shirt, followed by a bulky, burgundy wool sweater. Then I went out to the front room and sat on the couch next to the cushion Taiga had claimed, and pulled my computer to my lap. There was a mountain of things to get done, and this was a workday. I had just launched a browser and opened a document to get started, when the doorbell rang.

✦ ✦ ✦

"Ms. Carrigan, hello once again." The same navy blue bomber jacket and tie-less light-blue button-down appeared once more, adorning the form of Detective Flores. The voice was a friendly match for the warm smile, but the eyes were narrowed and inquisitive.

"Detective Flores. To what do I owe this pleasure?" After checking both Location and the peephole on the door, I'd been sorely tempted to ignore them and go back to work. But then I figured this was probably as convenient a moment as I was going to get. I might as well get it over with.

His eyebrows went up slightly. "I'm pleased you remembered me. May I come in?" he gestured with one arm still in his pocket toward the interior of my home.

I took a breath in through my nose, and let it out slowly, watching him the whole time. "What is this about?" I turned on Augur's Insight, and immediately felt the sharp probing pressure from him, as well as a different kind of curiosity mixed in.

"Simply following up on recent events. I spoke with a mutual friend at the San Leandro Police Department yesterday. It seems you were at the scene of a second suspicious death the other day. Along with your friend." He spoke softly and evenly, but I could sense his interrogative regard like a buffeting against me. It didn't feel like he would go away if I just asked. And, truthfully, I could use the distraction.

Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

"Sure, why don't you come in," I said, stepping back and holding open the door wide. I felt a touch of caution and confusion at my sudden willingness as he stepped gingerly inside. "Please excuse the mess. I've been pretty busy being hospitalized and kidnapped recently. I haven't had time to clean."

As he was busy looking around the hall, I walked past him to the front room. "Do you want anything to drink, a cup of coffee, or tea perhaps?" I asked, turning around at the kitchen entrance.

"Coffee would be appreciated, thanks," he smiled back, eyes still wandering and taking in the room.

I tried to leave him there, but he followed me into the kitchen. Shrugging internally, I busied myself making another cup of coffee.

"Had some kind of party last night?" He asked, nodding to the pizza boxes and empty bottles of wine.

I looked over and regarded him tiredly. "Why are you here, Detective Flores? Are you here to tell me how finding the body of one of the men responsible for framing me, and then being kidnapped and escaping his accomplice are against the law now?" I pushed the finished cup of coffee at him, and watched him fumble removing his hands from his jacket pockets to accept it. Then I walked back to the front room, not caring whether he followed me or not, and sat down again on the couch. Taiga had, unusually for her, remained seated this whole time, front legs tucked under, and eyes slitted. Her back was toward me, and her ears flicked toward the kitchen doorway as Detective Flores followed me back.

"I can't figure you out, Ms. Carrigan," He stood, looking down at me holding his mug with a half smile, but I sensed the unexpected truth from him. Confusion and curiosity were roiling off him like steam. "I can't tell whether you're a magnet for misfortune, or you're the luckiest lady on Earth."

"That makes two of us," I replied.

"Bruce Paap likely weighed as much as you and Ms. Patel put together," He sat down on the edge of the lounge seat and took a sip from his hot mug, before setting it on the coffee table. "And Mr. van den Berg had a gun. Per your statement, you were both incapacitated and bound." He leaned forward, hands grasped between his knees. "How did you possibly get out of that situation?"

"If you read our statements, you know how," I replied, giving Taiga a scritch between the ears. She closed her eyes in enjoyment, but her ears were alert.

"I want to hear it from you," he pressed, his smile unwavering.

"Magic," I smiled back darkly, rubbing Taiga's cheek. She finally closed her eyes all the way, and leaned into my hand.

His smile disappeared, replaced by a thoughtful expression. He leaned back in the chair, hands still clasped in front of him. The sense of frustration and confusion both rose, but a wariness and consideration were now emanating off of him as well.

"According to Mr. van den Berg, he was tricked to coming to that warehouse by Mr. Paap and Ms. Patel. That they fought over something, and he tried to defend himself, only to get walloped by you from behind." He chuckled briefly. "He was very insistent that he was taken unawares, and things would have been different if he'd heard you coming. He was adamant that the officer taking his statement get that right." His grin was wry and genuine.

"Thorsten's a misogynistic ass," I agreed.

"The circumstances tend not to favor Mr. van den Berg's version of events, as well as other evidence that was secured both at the scene and at his home." I felt a burst of revulsion and rage come from Detective Flores at that point, though outwardly he appeared calm. "That piece of … work is going away for a long time," his voice hardened at the end, his eyes narrowing at some other vision.

"However," he continued, bringing his full attention back to me. "Your story has its own issues. Your friend was treated at the scene for abrasions and marks consistent with being abducted and in a fight. You, though," he punctuated his words with a nod in my direction, "were entirely unharmed. Not a mark on you. Not so much as a papercut. Why so gentle with you?" He smiled wide, showing off his white teeth.

"I don't consider what they did 'gentle'." I said frostily. He waited, and I added "I was able to free myself. The ties must not have been pulled tight."

"That's all?" he pressed, his lips now pursed in vexation.

"What else do you want to hear?" I asked, narrowing my eyes, "I was 'lucky'. You said it yourself."

Another lengthy silence descended. His annoyance and confusion were warring within him. I wondered how much longer this was going to last. I thought about turning off Augur's Insight, since it wasn't really giving me a whole lot more than I could see from Detective Flores' face. Other than that underlying thread of uncertainty and confusion, he wasn't really hiding much. It was obvious he wasn't getting what he wanted from me.

"We also found missing evidence from the home of Mr. Hu," he continued, "which places our unfortunate Mr. Paap at the scene of Mr. Hu's death." He regarded me closely at this point, his attention fully on me as if he would peel away my skull to read the thoughts in my head. "Did you know Mr. Paap was there, Ms. Carrigan?"

"I didn't know it was him. But we did hear someone moving around, I told the police at the time," I paused, weighing the risks. "I did see a man's glove on the ground while we were there, but felt it was better to leave it alone given the circumstances." I looked down at my hands. "It wasn't until Bruce abducted us both that I realized it could have been him. He could have wiped Jon's video footage from Jon's phone, using Jon's face to unlock it." I looked up at Detective Flores again. "But it doesn't make any sense. You said Jon definitely killed himself. But Bruce and Thorsten talked about 'taking care of Jon'. Does that mean he was murdered after all?"

Detective Flores frowned, and I could sense the mild irritation at this line of questioning. "If Mr. Hu was murdered, it was done in a way that left no traces," He paused, and I could feel him weighing how much truth to reveal. "No, we think Mr. Paap discovered Mr. Hu in that state, and took the opportunity to rifle through his office, maybe for something that would incriminate him in their other dealings," He sighed performatively, then added "If anything we might be able to show callous indifference if Mr. Hu could be proven to still be alive at the same time Mr. Paap was there. But that's somewhat moot now, thanks to you. And Ms. Patel of course." He leaned his elbow on the arm of the chair and cradled his face in his palm.

We sat there again in awkward quiet. I could tell he was trying to use the silence to get me to volunteer something more, but I simply sipped my coffee and waited. After a few more uncomfortable moments, Detective Flores' face gradually fell to a frown.

"You are a cold woman, Ms. Carrigan. I can't figure you at all." I felt nothing but the absolute truth from him in that statement.

I responded with a wrinkled smile. "Maybe there's nothing to know." I continued petting Taiga and weathered his stare.