Fillmore turned back the minute he heard that voice.

"Shade! How-?"

"The front door." Shade interrupted.

Ingrid looked around, annoyed to find that Shade was nowhere in sight.

"Shade, where are you? You said you'd give it to us straight,"

"I also told your little friend to come alone. Twice the officers make for twice the risk."

Fillmore huffed.

"Come on Shade. It won't be any different from last time. I promise."

Shade sighed.

"Well I suppose I'll take your word for it."

With that, she stepped out of the shadows, her all-too-familiar veil fluttering a bit.

Ingrid held her breath as Shade gestured a hand toward the veil. Shade sighed.

"You were right officer. I haven't been very straight with you, so I may as well-."

Before she could pull off the veil, the door opened, and in walked two guys wearing George Bush latex masks. One of these guys motioned toward Shade.

"Hmm so you're the one we've heard about. Mind if the three of us go out for a little walk?"

Shade slowly backed away from them, until she found herself up against the kitchen entrance. Fillmore and Ingrid followed, in case Shade needed the help.

But apparently, she didn't. She reached for an EvianTM bottle.

"Uhh, could I offer you gentlemen a glass of water?"

Shade quickly shot some of the water in each guy's eyes and ran for the hallway, prompting Fillmore and Ingrid to follow. Fillmore was quick to catch up with her.

"Shade, wait!"

Shade slowed down just enough to look Fillmore in the eye.

"This is why I can't be straight with anyone! Not you, not your little partner…" She sighed. "…Not even myself."

At around that time, the two guys were catching up fast. Running for the kitchen door, Shade eyed a bag of flour and knocked it to the ground, creating a little smoke screen behind herself, Fillmore, and Ingrid. She looked to Ingrid.

"There's a little portrait by Clarice Wilson in the art club. There you'll find everything I was going to say tonight."

As the two guys slowly approached the kitchen, Ingrid clasped Shade's hand.

"Where's the portrait, Shade? What does it show?"

Shade quickly but gently wrenched her hand free.

"Shadows tell no secrets."

With that, she pushed up a faulty tile in the ceiling and climbed up, placing the tile back as she fled. Fillmore tried to see where she went, but it was no use: she was gone.