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With her friends in Beacon Hills relatively safe for the time being, Ophelia grabs a duffle bag, gets in her Porsche, and drives. The road trip takes her twenty hours, give or take, but possibly shorter since she breaks almost all of the speed limits. When she finally steps out of the cherry red car, she stares at the warehouse on the other side of the road. She can hear voices inside, three of them, and two she knows by heart. The other is unfamiliar.
Ophelia answers her phone on the first ring. "Stiles, for future reference, one singular voicemail is just as effective as fifteen."