Emotions.
They're extremely confusing and make everything needlessly difficult, yet where would she be without them? Who would she be without them?
Fabi turns and descends a flight of concrete steps, then stops at the Abbington Park & Ride, Bay 6. She stands absolutely still and avoids making eye contact with the various college students and business people around her.
After about half an hour, the bus pulls up. She scans her pass, then proceeds to one of the sideways-facing seats near the rear exit (her usual spot to sit). As she's putting her bus pass back in her wallet, a young, dark-haired woman sits next to her.
A whisper: "Hey, Audrey."
Only years of training cause her not to show how startled she is. She's gone back to her old look. Anyway, Audrey is dead. She glances around, looking for whoever the woman is speaking to.
"I can call you Mireille, if you'd prefer..." The woman's voice is even quieter than before.
The truth has always been one of her worst fears. Like usual, she runs.
"I'm sorry, are you talking to me? If so, you've got the wrong person."
The dark-haired woman shakes her head. "I'm sorry..."
Her apology clearly conveys that she knows. She's not sorry for her mistake. She knows it wasn't a mistake. She knows that Mireille Cavendish went on to become Audrey Nielsen. She might know about Fabi, too.
Fabi keeps her face calm, but as she speaks, her voice cracks. "It's...it's alright. I'm often mistaken for people. Aubrey's a new one, though." She forces out a laugh. "Usually I'm mistaken for someone called Katie. I guess I'm just sort of average-looking."
"If you say so."
No.
That's not how things work.
She's ordinary, boring. She blends into the background. She only leaves an impression on people who take the time to get to know her. People she's barely met don't do this.
She's on the outside, because that's the way it has to be.
She can't take it.
The bus stops, and she hurries to get off. She's so nervous, she completely misses the woman's hand brushing against the outside pocket of her purse.
She doesn't notice the note until later, much later, but by then it's too late, of course. Eileen exits the bus a few stops later, the tiny strip of paper now in the pocket of her jacket.
