As I left the Grand, my heart was exhilarated and I was eager to gather my things so that I could go back to my old life. I took the bus and returned to the motel to start packing. Though I had been there for six months, I hadn't accumulated many things and just had enough clothes to fill a backpack. As I zipped it up, my mind suddenly went back to the alley earlier that afternoon. I again saw the stranger in the alley, his face frozen in agony. Nausea suddenly overwhelmed me and I ran to the bathroom to be sick. After brushing my teeth, I looked at my own reflection in the dirty, cracked mirror. As I examined my own face, tears left trails down my cheeks. I whispered, "Murderer...Murderer...Murderer!" When I screamed, the glass shattered before me and I felt tiny cuts all over my face. But I closed my eyes, so they were unscathed. I didn't bother to clean up the mess, instead I pulled the small pieces of glass out of my flesh.

An hour later

I threw a couple of letters in the mailbox outside of the post office closest to the GCPD. This'll be the last ones for a while... I told myself. I wrote to Ozzie, to my parents, and my brother. In the letters to my family, I told my entire story. From the time that I was with Ozzie till now. I confessed all of my sins and begged for them to forgive me. As for Oswald's letter, I confessed that I had lost my memory before our time together, but couldn't bring myself to admit that I came from Indian Hill. Guess I can add the title of coward to myself as well... In it I apologized for causing him pain again and wished him happiness in life. I felt the sting of my tears running over the cuts of my face and after wiping it, saw some faint blood on my fingers and palm. I took a deep breath and started walking. I looked around me to take in my last night of freedom for the foreseeable future. A few months ago, my eyes would filter the negative sights and focus on the positive ones; but during that walk, I only saw the darkness. And when I finally reached the GCPD, I felt the cage closing in around me.

Inside the GCPD

The structure was intimidating with its lofted ceilings and abundance of steel and iron towering above and around the entire large room. I remembered the room from the last time I had been there. Except this time, I wasn't a victim but a perpetrator. Who do I need to talk to? I asked myself as police officers were walking around, seated at their desks, and otherwise dealing with dangerous looking people and sobbing civilians. As I eased inside the foreboding space, the nerves in my stomach were awakened and the instinct to run was as strong as ever. But I took a deep breath and started to walk toward one of the nearest unoccupied officers when I was interrupted by a clearing throat beside me. "Excuse me..." I heard a familiar voice say, "Don't I know you? My God, what happened to your face?" I turned to see Detective Bullock before me, wearing the same fedora as the last time we met. I nodded, "Yes, sir. I'm Felicity James, I used to teach at Gotham Elementary when you and your partner..." He lifted his finger toward me and nodded with a face of recognition, "Yeah! You were jumped and we interviewed you about your ex and attacker...What are you doing here? Are you okay?"

I was genuinely touched by this man's concern for me, and felt my anxiety grow as I knew that I would soon be changed in his eyes. "Not really..." I said, lowering my gaze. "Detective...I... Something happened..." I could see his pale eyes soften and he lowered his voice to a soothing tone as he said, "Oh...okay, do you want to talk out here? Or..." "Hey Bullock!" I heard a powerful, masculine voice yelled from the raised office on the side of the room. I saw a large, stock, bald man wearing a suit with an icy, stern gaze. "There's been a homicide in the Narrows. Get down there and canvas the area!" "Okay, Cap, just give me a minute..." "Now Bullock! They said that the guy's cause of death wasn't like anything they've seen before." "Damn it..." the detective breathed as the captain returned to his office. "I'm sorry, Ms. James, but I have to go." He went to put on his coat, and with his retreating back leaving the GCPD, my limited courage went with him. Another police officer asked if I needed anything, I rejected her offer and left quickly.

A couple of hours later

Cursing myself for my cowardice, I checked into a new motel probably a couple of miles from my previous location. I threw my backpack on the bed and then threw myself on the bed next to it. Looking at the peeling ceiling, I sighed in frustration and exhaustion. As much as I wanted to sleep, I knew that it wouldn't come easily. But there was nothing else for me to do but try, so I closed my eyes and tried to let go.