Hannibal had awaken in Lady Murasaki's flat. Which was not a place he would have gone by himself. He had to assume, then, that The City really genuinely believed that he belonged there and not at Bates Motel.
Absurd.
He was alive now, which was also absurd, but less so in his mind. He wouldn't have really been able to explain it if asked. He had been the last, that much he knew. He had faced down the killer, and been killed by an unexpectedly expert hand. No, it hadn't been unexpected, had it? A little surprising maybe, but not entirely unexpected. The man had killed a good slew of people before getting to him. Had even made it look like it was him. Enough so that Simon had found it necessary to corner him and drug him. Hannibal wondered if maybe he should have a discussion with Simon about the proper way to go about having those conversations.
But River probably already had.
He'd known River had died, and now that she had brought herself to the forefront of his mind, Hannibal knew that he needed to go see her. She wouldn't be taking this well.
He made his way to her apartment and knocked softly instead of just barging in. This was not a self-invitation kind of situation. Not in the least.