The next morning, she was herself again. She was furious at herself for allowing such a simple event to upset her so much, and was determined not to let it happen again. Horrible things had happened in the past, sure, but hadn't she learned from them? Wasn't she stronger now because of them? So what if something horrible happened again. This time she would see it coming, and vanish before it found her. She was smart, she was fast, and she was constantly vigilant.<br/><br/>Her shoulders were tense when she emerged from the abandoned building onto the street. She was clad in a similar pair of shorts this time, and carrying a large mesh bag over her shoulder. It was full of laundry needing to be washed. She refused to allow herself to look like the homeless girl that she was. Her clothing was always clean, and she showered as often as she could, using her membership at the gym to facilitate that. She ate her meals at work, buying enough to keep her nourished all day for each meal break, then making the food last as much as she could. All in all, it was a cautious, and yet comfortable lifestyle.<br/><br/>When she entered the laundromat, it was empty. She always preferred it this way, enjoying the silence and privacy. Her pleasure was short-lived, however, as a man entered behind her and went back toward the bank of dryers along the wall. She heard him open a couple machines. Paying him no further thought, she hefted her sack onto the table and began feeding clothes into a washer.<br/><br/>She set the washing machine, needing only one for her limited wardrobe, and added soap from the small box that had been in the bottom of her mesh bag. Leaving the bag on top of the washer, she turned and found a chair near by to sit and wait. There was a magazine on the table beside her and she idly picked it up. She began flipping through the pages with little interest until she found an article with some merit. Her eyes slid over line after line. After several minutes of this she began to nod and was soon dozing in the chair, lulled to sleep by the whirring of the machines around her.<br/><br/>She didn't hear the sound of movement over the muffling whir of machinery. The footsteps were slow and cautious as the man emerged from the back of the room into sight. He peered at her closely, observing from a distance, then nodded as he found her unconscious. Her hand was dangling over the arm of the chair limply. He moved closer, checked to be sure she hadn't stirred, and examined the watch around her dangling wrist. Ever so carefully, he reached closer and popped the clasp from her watch.<br/><br/>After only thirty seconds, he'd fiddled with something on the back of the watch, then slipped it back onto her wrist and clasped it in place. She was beginning to stir so he rose and walked toward the door, adopting a relaxed pace.<br/><br/>She woke just in time to see him exit, but never gave it a second thought as she stood to check the machine.