The next question that raced through her mind was how did he know she called out for him, thought of him more and more with each passing day. Was he watching her? Spying on her? She knew she should feel frightened or maybe a little more so since he was a convicted killer and how she had seen what he could do first hand, but unsurprisingly she wasn't, not in the least.
She knew what she had to do, knew that he would come back and knew there was no way to speak to him face to face, so she sat down and scribbled a letter, if he was really watching her, which she had no doubt about that, then he would know she was writing not to a friend or co-worker, but to him. Clarice scribbled down a letter on an extra piece of paper shuddering at the thought that she was doing the same as he not too long ago. With that she rose, placed the letter exactly where she had found his, and left the house for grocery shopping.
Hannibal watched once again from a safe distance, knowing full well what she was doing, he had been studying her for some time now, but could still tell what she was thinking well before even she knew. When he knew for certain that she was a safe distance away, he exited from his hiding place acting as if he belonged there, many people don't notice anything if you just act as if you belong, walked to the door, unlocked it and went in to read what she had written him.
This letter was nothing of a mind game, it was clear and concise, yes she does think of him, yes she does call out for him, and shockingly even to herself, yes she does love him. The only question was if he had felt the same. "Why must she even ask?" He thought to himself as he returned the letter to where it was and hid in a dark corner of the room where she would least expect him to be. It was time that they talked face to face once again.