Karen's working late again too. Budget crunching, it's almost always budget crunching. Numbers aren't her favorite thing and taking care of these petty chores is best left to the quiet of the early evening, after the day shift is gone, before the after-dark crimes bring the station back to life.

But the numbers are just kind of blurs on the page when she stops and remembers that strange thing that happened. That place where she was, or that her brain thought she was. And there was Henry. She really ought to talk to him.