CHAPTER 23
TELL ME YOU ARE REAL
The Tuesday morning training was done and Angie felt a little off. When Bryan asked if she was fine, she replied with a cocktail of the usual - a lie and a smile.
Next up on their daily agenda was a four-hour DNA analysis class. Angie had been waiting for that one, so impatiently.
She found the strength to go back to her dorm and grab a bag that she had been storing in the safety deposit box, where trainees' valuables would usually go. Well, she had none. None of the typical type - cash, jewelry, new car keys. Nothing materialistic was dear to her heart, so she used the box for better purposes. Although, after Bryan threatened the bows, she was half-considering moving them to the storage space.
"Welcome to your DNA analysis class. Here you will learn how to collect DNA, store and preserve it, transport it to the laboratory, and also, how to analyze it, using different techniques and machinery. May I remind you that everything here is expensive and potentially dangerous, so please use caution while utilizing the things that are at your disposal. Now, some of you might come from molecular biology majors and this is going to be a walk in the park for you, guys. For the rest of you...well, good luck surviving the final test." Their new teacher briefly summarized everything.
Angie eyed him up and down. He was short, with not much hair and almost all of it was already white. He wore tiny round glasses that did not really compliment his facial structure and his ears were sticking out of his head, reminding her a little bit of Shrek. She smiled, coming to that conclusion.
His voice was a little feminine. There was a certain pitch in there, one that made it funny to listen to him at first, but then you get used to it.
The man started from the top - explaining what DNA was, where exactly it was found - red blood cells or white blood cells; what kind of information it contained about the individual and how DNA was used to figure out ancestry.
Angie did not take any notes. She busied herself by looking around the room and memorizing the faces of other people, ones who, much like her, were yawning and did not even touch the pen or tablet.
"What are you doing? Scanning for Mr. Perfect?" Bryan teased her.
"No, dummy!" She giggled and pointed out a couple of people to him. "Remember those ones. We'll need them later."
She didn't explain any further and he wasn't surprised. Everything about Angela was a huge question mark and he was just floating around it, trying to figure her out.
The class continued with a few examples of using DNA to confirm parental connections and then went on to explain the importance of DNA in forensic science.
The only thing Angie put down on her little notebook was A 02, the laboratory for that class.
Two hours later, everyone went there to continue their learning.
The teacher showed them the basics of DNA analysis and urged them to form small groups and try it out themselves.
"Where is your group?" The man asked as he saw Angie clutching on to Bryan, waiting by the first machine.
"Right here." She pointed at Bryan.
"Too small. At least three people." The man said grumpily.
Angie made a run to the other side of the laboratory, having spotted something she wanted. Or rather - someone.
"I need you on my team. Hi. I'm Angie." She said sweetly.
When she brought him back to where Bryan was waiting, he smirked, realizing this was one of the guys she had pointed out to him earlier, in the auditorium.
"I'm Robert." His voice was weak and it cracked twice, just while he presented himself.
He was a typical nerd. He looked like one. He walked like one. He also spoke timidly, just like a nerd. Angie was borderline obsessed with him already.
Bryan realized why Angie had pointed this guy out earlier. He was among the ones who never took any notes in class, hence he already knew all of that stuff, hence he was going to be a great asset to the team.
"Okay, Bobby, I'm Angie and this is Bryan and we are really happy to have you on our team." She said politely.
Angie knew a thing or two about nerds. She was pretty much one, herself. Although, she liked to think of herself as a cool nerd, a hot chick who randomly knew nerdy things. Kids at school, years ago, had tried to bully her, but she never caved in. Instead, she came up with a counter-attack - one that worked perfectly, with anyone and in any occasion. She was nice. Nauseatingly nice. She smiled and turned someone's harsh words into a compliment for herself. She never let people walk all over her and whenever she saw them do so with the next victim they eyed, she made sure she would interfere. She hated bullying, but she also learned to understand bullies. She knew what they thought, how they acted and why. And yet - she would not tolerate their crap, not even for a second.
The teacher them told them to provide a DNA sample from themselves and to analyze it. Angie had other plans.
"Is that-...?" Bryan didn't finish his question. He didn't have to.
She smirked as a reply, unpacking a sample that she had already collected, in the woods.
Some groups did DNA analysis from saliva and some did blood analysis and extraction of DNA from blood samples. Angie's group did the latter.
Robert turned out to be into molecular biology, so this was nothing new to him. In fact, during their tests he explained some things and he even gave examples of how this could be used in forensic science, or even as proof in court.
He had been curious to know where the samples came from. Clearly, this was not fresh blood and it was already on a swab, but Angie told him that she wanted to try out something different, so he stopped asking.
"Wait. Something is wrong." She pouted when they got their results later on.
The group that was on their left side had finished their tests five minutes earlier, so they had seen their results. And the ones they got were...well, different.
"Wasn't this blood?" Robert asked.
"Yes. I swabbed it myself. It was dried out, but we should still be able to extract DNA from it. I don't understand..." Angie said in confusion, looking at the results on the screen.
"We did extract DNA. Just not-..." Robert started explaining, but he got interrupted by the teacher.
"What are your names?" He asked while his eyes were glued to the screen, reading the results as well.
"Angela, Bryan and Robert, Sir." She replied.
"Oh..." Realization hit him. "Of course it's you." He murmured to himself before he walked away.
"I don't think people around here like us." Bryan started laughing.
"Shut up! I'm a lovable person with an amazing, bubbly personality. Everyone likes me!" She took offence and she could not understand why everyone was suddenly being kind of rude and stand offish with both of them.
"What are you gonna do, then? Bake them cookies?" Bryan kept on laughing and Angie slapped his shoulder so hard that the sound of it startled the people around them, as if a small explosion had taken place.
"Robert, what were you going to say about our results?" She asked curiously, still looking at the screen. Yes, these were DNA results, but it didn't look normal, it wasn't like what she had seen it in the books.
"The DNA is not from a-..." Robert got cut off as soon as he started explaining.
"Robert! Would you mind assisting here for a moment?" The teacher said and Robert walked away without saying another word.
"This is a conspiracy!" Angie folded her hands against her chest and frowned.
"You're being paranoid." Bryan shook his head.
The class was soon dismissed and everyone, but the two of them, left with answers. They left with even more questions than they had before. So, Bryan decided to shut her up by offering to buy food. She refused. Angela liked paying for herself and took offence if people continuously offered her things.
However, when she swiped her card to pay for her lunch, she found out it got bounced. Twice. And then she remembered something. Making a rough calculation in her head, she came to the obvious conclusion that she was left with no money.
Bryan was behind her and he swiped his card for both meals, without saying a thing. He could imagine how uncomfortable she felt and he didn't want to embarrass her any further.
As if she didn't have enough things to worry about, now she was facing a new obstacle. She needed to find money. Immediately.
At the very same moment, it was night time in France. Everything was dark, peaceful, quiet. But it wouldn't stay like that for much longer.
Emily kept tossing and turning in her bed. Even though it was comfortable, warm, soft, she just couldn't relax and enjoy it.
When she finally managed to close her eyes, she dozed off and it started, all over again.
"No..." She mumbled in her sleep.
"JJ, get the girl." She turned to lay on her stomach, but that only lasted a few seconds before she was curled into a ball once again.
"Rossi. Please!" She was sweating, so she tossed the blanket to the floor.
"I don't need back-up. We're fine here." She whispered, as if, even in her sleep, she knew that she was bluffing.
"Someone, please, get the girl!" There was a sudden sharp pain in her stomach.
"JJ?" She called out. "Rossi? Reid? Guys? Anyone? Guys!?" She was getting more and more worked up and there was no possible body position that she found comfortable enough for more than a couple of seconds. It looked like she was rolling in mud, like a pig.
"Garcia?" She said desperately.
"Guys, I can't hear you anymore. If you can hear me, please, get the girl. Please!" Her heart felt like a crumbled, useless piece of paper, tossed carelessly in the bin.
"No. No. No..." She kept on mumbling quietly.
"I need to get her. She needs to be safe." She concluded and that was when everything went wrong.
She kept on tossing and turning, her body oozing warmth that was unusual for a human being. Her hair was all wet, some of it stuck to her forehead and the rest - glued to the back of her neck.
"Don't worry. I got you." She smiled. Through all of this, her current reaction was to smile.
"Come on." She whispered. "She's fine. I promise you, she's okay."
With her hands, she grabbed the pillow, bringing it close to her chest and hugging it tightly.
"Let's get you out of here." Her mouth was pressed against the pillow, as if she was trying to whisper to it, to calm it down.
"She's okay." She said once more, before her body nearly rolled off the bed. Something had just startled her.
She started breathing heavily and, if it were possible, she would be having a panic attack, in her sleep.
"Oh my God! What!?" In the end, she yelled out loud.
Her hands clutched the pillow with all the force she had in her body.
Suddenly, one more thing shocked her.
"NO!" This time she was even louder and, as many times before, this was the moment when she opened her eyes.
However, this time she was not alone. She was used to this nightmare, it had been haunting her for three weeks now. Every single time, it was the same scene, same words, same dumb decision and same terrifying outcome.
"Hey." Richard said calmly and she noticed how his hand was pressed against her shoulder. That spot felt a little warmer than the rest of her body. It was the only spot where her muscles didn't feel tense and rigid. It was the only spot that her body was enjoying. Had his hand been there for a while, maybe?
He was sitting on the edge of the bed, with the small night light on, waiting for her to wake up. Clearly, he knew how dangerous it would be to wake someone up while they were having an intense nightmare. Plus, Emily would have punched the crap out of him if he had done so. Instinctively, of course.
"It's okay." His hand moved up her shoulder a tiny little bit and the now uncovered spot felt cold. But another spot was feeling his warmth and she was okay with that compromise.
"It was just a nightmare. Calm down. Breathe." His voice was so deep. Soothing. She almost didn't catch that heavy French accent that he had. She almost didn't even realize she had only met him a couple of days ago. It felt like he had been in her life forever. He felt familiar. Very, very familiar.
"Just a nightmare...ha!" She hissed sarcastically.
It was more than a nightmare. It was a constant reminder of one of the dumbest, most spontaneous, uncalled for, idiotic, unfounded, arguably legal, egoistic, foolish, senseless decisions of her life. That was what it was. A nightmare - yes. But one that she had actually lived through and one that she now had to live with.
"Do you need anything? Some water? Wine? Food?" He asked and, looking up, she could almost swear she saw an angel halo above his head. Was this still a dream?
"You." She said, a tone just above a whisper.
He had to think twice before he would reply. Did he hear her wrong?
"Will you, please, stay?" If he had failed to get it the first time, this was his ultimate confirmation.
Emily moved to the side of the bed, making space for him to join her. And he did so, bringing the blanket back to the bed after he found it on the floor.
His right hand went under her neck, offering her a pillow that would feel a little more stable than the one she had just kicked to the floor as well, when she had woken up.
She instinctively eliminated the void space between their bodies. She snuggled against his body and his left hand embraced her, now laying on top of her bare stomach. It felt so damn good.
Emily had never liked intimacy. She was a complex human being. She liked men. In different moments of her life, she liked men a little too much. Then she was indifferent. Then she liked them again. Then she would obsess with them and then she would be indifferent again. But, in neither scenario, would she ever allow someone to hold her, to touch her like that, to feel the pain that was oozing from her body. Hell, she wouldn't even let her teammates know when she was hurting, because human interaction, intimacy, affection, sentiments were terrifying to her. They were useless, stupid, uncalled for, only seen in fake romantic movies and she just did not like them.
But damn, this man was something else.
She pressed her nose against his shoulder. He smelled good. She could still feel the scent of his eau de cologne from the day before, even after the Jacuzzi and the shower he had taken after that. He smelled familiar and she was hoping she wouldn't be able to pinpoint the scent as a perfume that either one of her male colleagues had ever used before, because, God help her, that would be so awkward.
"Please, tell me this is real." She whispered, desperately holding back tears.
She had already given this man complete control over her body and emotions. She would be damned if she let him see her cry, too.
"Tell me you are real." She specified.
Richard gulped. He did not reply. All he could do for her, at that moment, was to hold her.
It had already been one-too-many times that Bryan had offered her food and she was not okay with that. She was a girl who had always taken care of herself and she had never depended on anybody.
So, after lunch break, when everyone was headed off to get some rest, Angie was headed to finding a job that would get her the money she needed, in order to get food.
Usually, when they had some spare time, Angie and Bryan would go check the campus out. But this time, she told Bryan that she wasn't feeling well and that she needed to get some sleep before the afternoon class.
Angie then wandered around the official FBI building, going as far as her credentials would allow her to. At some point, she found herself in the middle of a common room, on the second floor, with a coffee machine and some snacks laid out on the table. All free. Perfect.
It had been a great decision to go there in plain clothes. Having a Trainee eat there for free would be frowned upon. Her Trainee card hung by the side of her jeans, backwards, so that nobody would be able to identify her.
Very casually, she greeted a few elder Agents, while pouring herself some coffee, as to not raise any suspicions. It tasted absolutely disgusting, but she would sweeten it up with the fact that it was free.
She grabbed three of the biggest cookies she found on the table and she walked off to find herself a table. With the corner of her eye, she spotted a board. That only meant one thing - announcements.
Still holding her coffee mug and treats, she walked over and started reading.
Selling a mountain bike. Perfect conditions. My nephews underestimated my age when they gave me that present. - John K.
In need of a referenced graffiti artist, to come paint my son's room in galaxy theme. Because my husband is just too bad at the job and I can't watch this! - Melissa S.
Ballistics searching for someone to come clean guns when they have time. Pay? Hey, we're all under budget cuts! - Steven T.
Can someone, PLEASE, tell the director how awful the coffee is? - Anonymous, but pretty much any Agent's name can go here.
Library help needed. Reception duty, shelf organizing, checking the state of returned books, etc. Fun job. Great pay. Ha-ha. I'm desperate here! - Ask info Library reception
"God, who knew FBI Agents had a sense of humor?" She whispered to herself.
Unluckily for her, she was surrounded by people who had spent their lives eavesdropping and checking out on suspicious people and activities around them. So, she had a few sets of eyes glued to her.
Yes, it was a common space, but what she did not know was that the few Agents that frequented it knew each other very well. And Angie's unfamiliar face, her tender age and that purple bow in her hair were a huge alarm for many of them.
"That's a secret we keep to ourselves and a bunch of selected outsiders." A man came up to her, startling her as he replied to those spoken thoughts of hers.
"Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't mean any disrespect. It's just that everyone thinks Agents are all work, no play." She shrugged innocently.
"None taken." Those words made the man laugh genuinely. "They are. Just, maybe not all the time."
"It's nice to meet you, Sir. I'm Angela Hunter." She figured her name wouldn't ring a bell and connect her to the Academy in any sort of way.
The man suppressed a smirk.
"Nice to finally meet you, Trainee Hunter." He replied.
Finally? That alarmed Angie, but she chose not to ask.
"Oh, it's that obvious that I'm a Trainee?" She blushed. "Sorry, I didn't quite catch your name, Sir."
"I didn't announce it." He said with authority and Angie already loved him. Any man who dared intimidate her, except for her driving instructor, was a man she respected.
Those were the same exact words she usually used when people were nosy enough to keep asking for her name.
"Call me Ben." He added after a very long pause, one during which Angela could not possibly feel any more ill at ease. Something about the way he looked at her was so intimidating.
"Okay, Ben. Which division are you in?" Typically for her, she wanted to start some small talk.
"General services." His response was a bit off.
He was dressed well, spoke politely, was clearly very intelligent and there was a gun in his holster. Was she supposed to believe he was responsible for the cleaning staff and internal logistics? No way.
"What exactly?" She asked, fishing for more info. Truth was bound to come out, she just had to keep him talking.
"I have to make sure people act the way they are expected to and I also supervise Agent evaluations on a regular basis. Or whenever they screw up and are under investigation." He explained shortly.
"Oh, so like, some sort of HR?" It hit her.
"Some sort." He finally smirked. "Now, what about you?"
"I'm in the Academy. Second week. And I love every moment of it..." She only came across half-genuine.
"Uh-oh!" He stated dramatically.
"No, it's just that...I mean, I guess it is my own fault that I came here very prepared. First week was hella boring. But, on the bright side, I didn't waste any paper by taking notes. Hey, saving the planet and all that!" She laughed.
It was impossible for him not to laugh as well. She just made him feel so comfortable.
Ben received an urgent phone call and he excused himself quickly.
Left alone, she felt bored. This place couldn't offer her anything more, so she moved on to the next errand she had on her list.
Ten minutes later, Angie walked in the ballistics division of the official FBI building and she smiled. Dan had already taken her and Bryan to the shooting range, but where they stored all the firearms was even more impressive.
"Hi. I'm here because of the job announcement." She said to the first person she saw around.
"Oh. That's not a real announcement. We fool around on that board. It's just for fun." The random guy replied.
She looked around and noticed quite a few guns, waiting to be cleaned and inspected.
"I don't think a helping hand would harm you, hey." She said cheekily.
The man sighed. She was right.
"Alright. I can start tomorrow at lunch time. How much are you going to pay me?" She auto-hired herself with a smirk.
"We can't pay you money." He replied and saw her sweet smile turn into a frown. That kid clearly needed money. "I can get you some restaurant tickets, though."
"Oh, I need the money for food anyway. So that's just perfect. See you tomorrow!" She announced and disappeared before the dude would change his mind.
Her next stop was the library.
"Hi. I know the announcement was a joke, but I need a job and I love books. Especially criminology ones! I accept payment in food tickets. Anything, really. So, when do you want me to start?" The first time she had been balsy enough to hire herself had worked, so she tried it out one more time.
"Hi. The announcement was for real, actually. We need someone to hang out here for a few hours per week. And yeah, we can get you tickets, no problem. I don't think we could pay you any cash, though." The receptionist said.
That's okay. I want the tickets." Angie smiled, being extremely grateful.
"Hey, you're the Trainee I gave those additional books to, the other day! I remember you." The receptionist's smile grew wider, now that she knew Angie was really into books and not just saying it so she could get paid.
"Yup, that's me. I started the book on how to interview psychopaths and I'm loving it. Thank you so much, it was very kind of you to suggest it to me. I'm Angie, by the way. It's really nice to meet you."
"I'm glad you like it. Let's just say that the topic is not everyone's cup of tea." The girl laughed. "I'm Barbara. You will be working with me. The girl who was here...let's just say she put the wrong book on the wrong shelf. Like, every single time."
Angela laughed. No wonder the girl didn't last long on the job.
"Ok then. I will see you every other day, at lunch time. Tomorrow I'm busy, so see you in two days." Angie waved goodbye and left.
She walked to her afternoon class with a huge content smile on her face.
"Hey, I lost you somewhere in the crowd after class. I was waiting at that healthy food place, figured that's where I can find you. I vaguely remembered you mentioning getting some sleep…" Bryan said as soon as he saw her take her usual seat.
"Oh, isn't it wonderful to not be able to use cell phones around here?" She giggled. "I didn't get lost. I just had something to do. Kind of a last moment decision. Sorry I didn't warn you."
For a second, she thought about his words. That healthy food bar was awesome for one reason only - the food was good for the body. Otherwise, Angie was a burger and fries kind of girl. Pizza, too. But she knew she had to take great care of herself during the Academy, so she could always be ready to train more effectively. Even if that meant eating green leaves like a horse and having carrots as garnish to every single damn thing, like a rabbit.
Well, luckily for her, she no longer could afford the cool chick food. Life was made of compromises, after all.
"From now on I won't be able to stay with you during lunch time." Her announcement took him off guard.
"That sucks! How come?"
"I got a job." She said casually. "Two, actually."
Bryan nodded, without saying a word. He was aware of her financial situation, but since she never came out and said it, he figured it would be extremely rude to discuss it. Angie seemed like someone who was able to take care of herself, so he was sure she would do just that.
Their afternoon class was on criminology and both Angie and Bryan enjoyed it. It was long and tiring, but very useful and informative.
After class some of the Trainees decided to go grab a beer on campus before heading back to the dorms for the night. Angie excused herself, one more time announcing that she needed to get more rest.
Walking back to her dorm, she frowned. Each time she opened the door, the first thing she saw was Amanda's bed. Empty. It looked…wrong. It felt wrong. And it hurt. So much.
Angie hadn't had too much time to get to know Amanda well, but that didn't mean she hadn't gotten to like her. And even if she didn't like her, that did not mean she wished her ill or that she was relieved Amanda was now gone. On the contrary – it felt like Angie had lost someone. And, comparing her current situation, to old experiences, that only made her feel…weak.
She tried to calm herself down, taking a longer shower, a hot one, allowing the warmth of the water relax all of her body muscles. And she had almost succeeded. But her calm demeanor only lasted until she opened the bathroom door and caught a glimpse of that bed. Empty. Messy, like Amanda had left it, the morning of her unfortunate accident.
Angie gulped. At that moment, she felt nothing like the strong, confident young girl – the one she had introduced to everyone. The one she desperately needed everyone to believe she was. Fearless. Brave. Intelligent. Her own version of what the F.B.I. initials stood for.
There was a certain sadness in her eyes, the eyes that were now glued to that empty bed. Certain memories flooded her mind and a certain melancholy could be noted in her beautiful emerald eyes.
Her lower lip quivered. She was still standing at the bathroom door, as if she was scared to take a step forward, to where Amanda was no longer to be seen. She now felt a new mix of emotions. Emptiness. Fear. Cold. She felt alone. And she knew exactly how much that can screw her up, if she didn't snap out of it and start acting like the brave Angela Hunter – the girl she wanted everyone to see her as.
And yet, she simply could not shake it off.
She was so used to that feeling of sudden loss. Of emptiness. Of cold shivers, going through her body.
With her eyes closed, she took a few steps towards her own bed and put her pajama on before sprawling on top of the covers. She knew that even if she laid underneath them, they wouldn't be able to take that feeling of coldness away.
"Why do people always have to leave?" She whispered to herself, hugging her waist with both hands.
She didn't have anyone there, to hug her. To give her some warmth. To take her mind off of things. To comfort her.
She never did.
The thought of that made her lip quiver again. And again.
"No, I'm strong. Angela Hunter is strong!" She kept on whispering to herself, but it felt like she was talking about someone else.
She did not feel strong.
She felt alone.
And sad.
So sad.
With one hand, she reached the nightstand where her little safety box was still sitting, from earlier when she had grabbed the blood samples for class.
In that box, she stored a few tiny objects. She grabbed one of them and kissed it lightly before pressing it against her chest, the left side of it, close to the heart.
"I want to be Angela Hunter, so badly…" She sighed.
Her mind then took her to a time in her life, when she had lost someone, the only one who had ever made her feel like herself, no matter the name and the location. They had made her smile. They had made her feel safe. They had helped transform her into a confident young girl – fearless, brave and intelligent. And then they had roughly taken it all away from her.
"Why did you have to leave…?" Her damn chin would not stop quivering.
"No! I've cried enough for you!" She commanded herself, seeing a picture of that person in her mind.
"I am Angela Hunter…" She started her usual pep talk, the one she had given herself so many times before, when things had gotten rough.
"I am strong…"
"I am smart…"
She sighed. Who was she kidding?
But then again – if she wasn't able to fool herself, how was she going to do that with everyone else, at the Academy?
"I smile and I make people smile…"
She knew exactly who she wanted to be.
"I respect people…"
"I take care of myself…"
She hugged herself tighter, trying to counter that feeling of her stomach being shrunk. She almost did not feel any air left inside of her and she started to sweat.
"No, no, no! I'm not going to cave in!" She said, as if she was speaking to the panic attack that was about to hit her.
"I am strong! I am confident! I am smart!"
Her breathing was shaky and by now she had a splitting headache.
"I am Angela Hunter…" She repeated to herself.
"And I am not going to let your bad decisions affect me any longer…" She had almost been convinced, up to the point when she pronounced those last words.
That's when her pep talk went south.
She felt self-conscious. She'd never show it to anyone. She knew how to act around people. She was the master of deceit.
But the one person she could never lie to was herself – the real girl behind those green eyes and that beautiful fake smile.
"Ugh, if they only knew…" She said, rolling her eyes.
If only Bryan knew that she was not confident all the time. She was not always right.
If only he knew that bullying actually got to her sometimes.
If only he knew how hard it was for her to be there and to mask up all the emotional baggage she had been carrying with her for years now.
If only he knew how human she was – imperfect, sometimes a little shy, goofy, broken.
But he would never know.
They would never know.
Because Angela Hunter would make sure she'd never show a sign of weakness, to anyone. She'd never admit defeat. She'd walk around with her head held high and the more upset she was, the wider that smile on her face would grow. She'd want them all to think she was dumb, she'd put those colorful bows in her hair and she'd smile. Always.
She'd keep it all in, she'd fight her own monsters and she'd be nothing but a bubbly goof on the outside. A dork. A girl without a care in the world.
If only he knew…
If only they knew…
But she was strong. Confident. Smart.
She'd fool them, like she had done many times before.
She'd smile.
She'll be Angela Hunter.
Maybe one days she'll master the art of deceit well enough to be able to fool her biggest enemy – herself.
