Int stayed quiet, deep in his own thoughts glancing at his wristwatch every few seconds. He looked like an ancient detective. With his wrinkled, pale skin and his silver hair buzzed short and his frail hand rubbing his chin. He sighed, and stood up with a sad, tight smile.

“It was nice talking with you. And let me know if you think of any other things. Don’t forget anything.”

He checked his wristwatch and shuffled off leaving Wiki to stare, unseeing, at the T.V. She thought and thought and thought. She couldn’t remember the last time she had really thought about anything. She thought about Int and how he was the only familiar person she knew. She glanced at everyone in the room and thought, “I don’t know you. You don’t speak or look or think, do you? You’re not real. You all are there. But you’re not.” She thought about the newspaper clipping. How did it get in her room? Who left it there? Did they forget it, or did they put it there? Why did Int try to take it? Why did she know the article was a lie?