CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Ilse felt odd, driving through the city streets, heading towards her apartment, at a normal, human pace. The dark skies had persisted until night. And now, again, darkness had claimed its dominion across the horizon. The streets at midnight were empty. And as Ilse made her way towards her apartment, she couldn't shake the exhaustion weighing on her. And the memories that came with it.
Under the watch of night, the recollections returned. Her hands gripped her steering wheel, her ankle stiff where it kept pressure on the gas pedal. As she moved along the roadway, her thoughts flipped back to that jail cell. Towards the woman.
Ilse hesitated. A woman? What woman? Was she just thinking of what Sawyer had said? He wouldn't rule out a woman.
But the gray figure. The person
