Humming with the pleasure of having company on the walk, Leeloo turned a full, slow 360 where she stood, soaking up the landmarks, laying down a mental anchor in case she wanted to return here, and then pointed toward the west. "That way," she said, and marched forward with clear purpose, cutting diagonally across the street in front of her. There were no cars on it at this time of night, but she did it in such a way that made it clear she never had needed to worry overmuch about cars on streets before. She hadn't even looked both ways.
She'd memorized the map already, and so when she arrived on the other side of the street and found that the streets were not the same as how they were designed on the map, Leeloo paused at the corner. This intersection was only a block away from the apartment complex on the map. It was as if they'd skipped across town by crossing a street. She turned again in her place, then checked the street signs one more time. Finally, Leeloo looked behind her toward where the standing map had been. It, too, was gone.
She straightened, then looked at John. "You remember crossing what number of streets from in front of the map?" Was it a memory problem? Was she ill? Was she being affected by something? Were they both?