With the intensity of his flashlight drowning out Maggie’s, Nate let the light dip to the floor’s corner to avoid blinding her. His eyes shifted to the woman’s hand when she held out a small rectangle of stock paper.
	He raised an eyebrow. “Depends on what it is.” He reached out and took the plane ticket stub, shining his light on it as she spoke again. His chin raised slightly as he looked over the information the stub provided.
	“Look at the date.” He handed it back to her, his thumb resting beneath the date. “I think,” he answered her question, “unless he had a change of heart and went back of his own volition just before they disappeared, I doubt it’s his. My turn.” He nodded toward Fred’s room, then strode inside, not bothering to look back to be sure Maggie followed him.
	“You’ve heard about the prison breakout a couple weeks ago, right?” He went to the part of the mirror-wall where he had found his own oddity. “Check this out.”
	Nate shone his flashlight once more on the mirror just right to make the name smudging the mirror visible.
	“I’d recognize Fred’s handwriting anywhere.” He looked to Maggie, whether she had followed or not. “[i]Told[/i] you the police are incompetent baboons.”