The police were filing and working through paperwork for her to be set up with a new home, a small room setup for her in one of the interrogation rooms for the night. She was brought a pillow and a warm blanket to use, chairs set up as a bed for her. It was another foggy night, streetlamps leaving a red glow in the thick mist throughout the now empty streets. As the officer who set up a sleeping area for her left, just as the door closed the screeching began again, a heavy, burning presence felt in her chest. Invisible eyes watched her quietly from across the street, staring intently through the window from behind the width of a telephone pole, his form blurred by the fog as he had been the night they met.