The bookstore was not on the list of Safe Places, and if they'd found her at work, they surely knew where she lived. She quietly suggested the very place he'd first considered, the weight of his displeasure making her feel guiltier by the second.
Unlike him, she wasn't afraid for her immediate safety. Afraid, yes, but it was the sort of fear that came only after the close call -- the fear that reminded one of one's fragile mortality, even when it wasn't in jeopardy.
The kind that told her never to do something like that again.
And yet -- Edward Nigma was still out there. Was he, like Doctor Crane, also mad? Or was there a chance of reaching him? She couldn't know until she knew. Dark eyes slid across the seat and rested on the hands that had so recently held weapons.