Dodson didn't appear to follow along with the lucky assessment she'd given, huffing and shaking his head lightly, withdrawing his arm a bit from the touch.  "They would've released you either way.  Didn't have much cause to hold you, aside from being crazy, which isn't a crime," he explained, turning the vehicle around a wide corner, setting off a tidal wave in the streets.  "And don't forget, just because you're not in a psych ward now doesn't mean you can't end up in one.  You're going to need to keep it toned down around other people.  Me too, if you're not careful."<br/><br/>She lamented openly about the rain.  He was just about to open his mouth, letting some cynical quip slap the inane comment out of the air when the raindrops assaulting the windshield ceased.  At first, he leaned forward, looking to see if they were driving through an overpass that he'd zoned out, or perhaps under raised train tracks, but no such edifice shielded them.  The rain had simply stopped.<br/><br/>"Huh," he said, seeming unimpressed.  "Don't worry, it'll be back."<br/><br/>She stepped out of the car and seemed to go into a trance.  With some difficulty, he pulled himself out of the driver's side door, thankful for the absence of the pounding rain that had soaked his clothes moments ago, but any optimism faded as he saw the way she inspected the street, and the faint glow in her eyes.  "Hey..." he muttered, watching her take a few steps, reaching out as if to catch something before a faintly heartbroken look fell across her expression.  His eyes tracked hers and he looked around the scene, finding nothing.<br/><br/>He moved in front of her, trying to get her attention.  Steadying himself, he lifted his cane, just about to give her a quick swat against the arm to bring her back from whatever fever dream she was having when the gold faded in her eyes and she returned, sharing a revelation with him.  His eyes rolled as she claimed to have seen herself get hit by the car, but her description intrigued him, bringing him back from his cynicism quickly.  He recalled the file, indicating some blue paint transfer had been found on her clothes, just a bit above the hip.  It's about where the hood of an SUV would have come on a girl her size; it seemed she'd that whatever she'd envisioned had some element of truth to it.<br/><br/>"Dark blue, or pearl blue?" he asked, wondering if she could confirm the truth.  "You should know if you answer this right, I'm going to trust you're either the real deal, or a suspect."