She could have been in danger that morning, and she hadn't even known it. Assuming, of course, that this man was Alfred — and he was slowly winning her over with Alfred's mannerisms, even if he wasn't wearing his own face. This stranger seemed more like Alfred than Alfred had that morning.

Zelda wasn't sure if she felt relieved, or if she was more on-edge than she'd been all day — the strange thing was in her own home, now.

"I don't think you're the only one," Zelda said, "There's something going on with Roslyn. And others."

Whispers, trickling into her department, all day. But it was different when it was her husband.

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