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René Magritte 1927 ____
//long chapter
"ARE YOU an FBI agent?" The woman with light brown hair questioned her, almost as anxious as she was.
"No." She stepped foward, trying not to scary. "I'm...I'm Alice Mallory...I think they told you about who I am."
As she revealed her identity the woman became quiet, her lips parted, curious, but also thinking deeply.
"Yes...they did..."
"You survived." Alice could only believe by staring at her. "He...chose not to kill you...why?"
"I...I don't know..." Miriam felt slightly uncomfortable to speak about the subject, turnong to the sofa and sitting.
Alice did not give up though and followed her, but continued standing.
"I'm sorry..."Miriam Lass muttered, looking at her through her eyelashes. "About your sister...they told me..."
"He killed her." Alice simplified coldly.
"Yes...I'm sorry for your loss.."
"But he didn't kill you."
"No..."
Alice took a deep breath. She hated how she felt now. That outraging feeling that blasted inside her chest caused by the injustice. That woman was a victim, she had scars, she had traumas, and yet, she envied her. Envied that she escaped and Bree didn't.
She awakened the worst side in her.
"Do you know who he is?" Alice went straight to the point.
"I...no.." Miriam stuttered.
"Jack told me you can't remember it very well..." Alive walked around the room. Something about that interrogatory wasn't like her. Normally she'd be calm, helpful, lovely, empathize with her. But this time she was tired. She was angry at at the ripper, at Will, Jack, at that woman she barely knew. She just wanted answers. "...about what happened."
"No...I don't."
"I called my sister moments before she died." Alice stopped, setting her hands at the back of an armchair while staring at her. "And she wasn't alone. There was a voice behind her. Someone that scared her." Miriam's eyes trembled at her somber tone used in the narrative. "I used to don't remember what they said, but I had flashes, forming up a sentence. "
"Flashes?" That triggered Miriam's memory. The silhouette that haunted her mind, the serene tone that hipnotized her while using a lightning device.
"Yes. They said 'Is this what you are looking for, miss?' To her." Alice watched as the woman in front of her became even more anxious, breathing heavily. "But I can't remember whose voice this is." They had a pause in silence for a moment, taking in what was said. "Minutes before she hang up she was killed at an alley, with no evidence of who it might've been." Alice let it out in a defeated breath. "The only clue is my memory. And I can't trust it."
