Sara was surprised when she didn't fumble with her keys when she unlocked her apartment door. She had thought that after her breakdown in the car that she was going to be in for a long night of tears and uncertainty. It didn't help that her doorman had decided to strike up a conversation with her when she walked through the lobby doors, and that she entered the elevator feeling like the entire exchange had been a brutal interrogation even though it wasn't. She hadn't been angry with him for it because she knew that he probably took one look at her appearance and felt that he should try to make her feel even a little bit happier than she looked. She had always been kind to him, always greeting or parting with pleasant words, so maybe he felt that he should return the favor.
So after everything she was especially pleased with herself when she was able to calmly walk into her apartment like it was an ordinary day. She placed her purse and keys on the table and hung up her coat then made her way into the kitchen. She thought about making dinner than settled on boiling some water for a cup of tea. She filled the kettle and plugged it in then walked to her bedroom to change out of her clothes.
She had just gotten undressed when she heard the kettle start to whistle from two rooms away. Automatically her mind raced to Michael and she pictured him trying to climb over the wall as the sirens sounded and guards chased after him blowing their whistles and yelling for him to stop. She saw him slipping and falling and watched as he was swallowed up by a sea of hands made up of the awaiting guards below.
With a jolt she brought herself back to the present and shook her head in an attempt to rid the thoughts of him from within her mind. She was determined not to think about him for the rest of the night. She wanted a night of blissful ignorance before she had to face the events and the consequences the following day.
She slipped on a robe and made her way to the screaming kettle and unplugged it. As she was taking out a package of green tea she suddenly had an unsettling feeling. She placed the teabag in her mug than slowly pour the water and was shocked when she saw that her hand was shaking. She set the kettle down and stared at her hand as if it had a mind of its own.
She was honestly shaken. She hadn't thought that she was that truly affected by the weird feeling that had overcome her suddenly. She had thought that what she felt had something to do with the planned escape and the part she played in it. She had thought that perhaps it was just catching up with her what she had ultimately done. But when she saw that her hand was very visibly shaking she wondered if it had to do with something else. She almost felt that it was a warning that something was going to happen to her.
Sara quickly chided herself for being so ridiculous. Nothing bad was going to happen to her except of course possibly going to jail if anyone found out the truth, but surely nothing that would warrant the chill that had crept up her spine. She told herself that it was probably all of Michaels talk about big conspiracies of mysterious depths. That and than finding out the president died and her father had somehow managed to find himself in the middle of it all. So considering everything that had happened and everything that she had learned in the past few hours, it was perfectly rational for her mind to try to relieve some of the pressure.
She finished pouring her water and when her tea was ready she cradled her mug in both hands as she made her way to her living room and her couch. She laid back on the couch, resting her head on the pillow that was settled into the corner of the sofa. She picked up a remote lying on the coffee table and switched on her CD player. Soon the room was filled with the soft melodies of James Blunt singing about losing a lover and she closed her eyes and let the music and the tea wash away all of her troubles.
When Sara opened her eyes again she realized that she must have drifted off to sleep for a few moments and was glad for it. She felt somewhat better and knew that a steaming hot shower would likely help as well. So with that thought she lazily raised herself off the sofa and walked to the kitchen sink to rinse out her mug and stick it in the dishwasher. But as she was running water over the mug, the hairs on the back of her neck stood up and she had the feeling that someone was watching her. The thought made her feel foolish but she stop herself from turning around to make sure no one was there.
Sure enough, when she looked over her shoulder, there wasn't anyone standing behind her. She felt like she was losing her mind and she had the urge to drink the feelings of unease away. But as quickly as the urge came she pushed it away. She wouldn't allow herself to become that weak again, not like she had allowed herself earlier in the day. She had come too far to throw it all away and she already resented her moment of weakness when she entered that bar and ordered that drink.
Sara finished her chore than made her way to her bathroom and reached inside the shower stall to turn the water on. As she waited for the water to heat up she walked to her room and pulled out a fresh set of pajamas. She brought them back to the bathroom and shut the door behind her and spent a minute examining herself in the mirror. But before she could get too carried away at criticizing herself, she pushed away from the sink and slipped off her robe.
As she stepped into the shower and felt the hot streams of water hitting her tense muscles, she at once began to relax. She tilted her head back and just let the water run over her body silently hoping that the water would carry away not only the dirt and sweat that clung to her skin, but everything she feeling and thinking as well.
But as the hot streams of liquid flowed through her hair and down the curve of her spine she heard a couple of soft thumps that sounded like they were coming from her room. Then she realized that she had left her stereo on and that the acoustics in the shower stall must have distorted where the sounds had originated from. She didn't think that she had turned the music that loud but she must have been mistaken, there was no other explanation.
After she finished her shower she dried her hair then put on her tank top and pajama pants. Still feeling a little jumpy, Sara decided that another cup of tea might ease her nerves and she opened the door intending to go to the kitchen to boil some more water. But when she opened the door, instead of an empty hallway, she was met the sight of two men wearing suits.
Her first thought was that Michael and Lincoln had escaped and that these were FBI agents there to ask her questions but those thoughts fled her mind when both men lunged forward grabbing her roughly by the arms and pulled her from the bathroom. She tried to fight them off, she struggled to get free from their grasp but she was no match for the two of them.
They hauled her kicking and screaming into her living room where she saw two other men in suits. They looked like they were pulling things out of briefcases but she wasn't at a good enough angle to see and from behind her she heard a man tell them to shut her up. But before either of them could make a move toward her, one of the men holding her swung a fist at her stomach and she doubled over in pain unable to breathe.
She heard orders being given and the next thing Sara knew she was being pinned face up on her couch and one of the men was forcing a tube down her throat. She then saw a bottle being taken off her coffee table and recognized it at once. It was a bottle of whiskey and from what she could tell they were going to force her to drink it.
Again she tried to struggle against the men holding her down but it was impossible to get away and she soon felt the golden liquid running down her throat into her stomach, burning as it went. After what seemed like hours to Sara they finally stopped pouring the liquor into her mouth but she still didn't understand who these men were or why they were doing this to her.
But while she was trying to work everything out in her mind through the haze that the whiskey had already brought, her attention was drawn to movement on her right. Through a break between the bodies of two of the men she saw something she knew even better than the bottle of whiskey. One of the men was holding a needle in one hand a small bottle of what she knew to be morphine. And that's when she knew what they were doing.
She realized in that moment that these men were there to kill her and that they were trying to make it looked like she had slipped back into her old habits and had accidentally overdosed. It was also in that moment that she knew it was all over. She would never get to Michael again, she would never get to know if the price she was about to pay had been worth it.
Her mind began one last struggle against the certain defeat it was about experience and she remembered hearing a name amoung all the orders and responses. Kellerman. But then she gave into the fact that it wouldn't be able to help her as she felt the needle pierce her skin and felt the drug start to flow through her veins. And as she started slipping into the darkness that was quickly surrounding her, her last thought was who would have guessed that all of this would happen to her. And then she faded into blackness surely never to wake from it again.