Elias waited until the cocktail waitress took her order before he opened the notes he'd meticulously created from his own observations and the interviews conducted with others. Smoothing a clean, fresh page down with the back of his hand, he set his pen across the base of the tightly curled wires, then folded his hands in front of him. There would be a time for notes. Not now.
He could have eased into the conversation, could have attended to the niceties of politesse, but he was exhausted. The truth was that Fee's clear extroversion was already taxing in his state. His lack of tolerance was no dispersion against her, but rather a reflection on his own personality. No, he had nothing against her. He wanted to speak with her. But he wanted to do it quickly.
And so with little more fanfare and no nonsense at all, he began.
"It seems to me that some of us were attacked the night of the blackout, but by whom and for what purpose yet remains a mystery -- a mystery I hoped you could help solve. Of everyone I've spoken with, each seemed to suffer a different ailment based on a single sense -- sight, hearing, touch, smell. This was true until last night, when I spoke with someone who mentioned you, someone who must be very close to you, although she never did tell me the connection. Might I inquire from you?"
They both had the same dark hair, the same pale skin -- but although Fee's eyes were light like Karin's, they didn't hold the haunted aspect that he'd seen from the lady last night. They could possibly be related. But their experiences must have been drastically different. Elias set his fingertips against the side of his pen but didn't yet pick it up.