Standing closely to my left was the blonde girl who had caught my eyes briefly on the train. As her blue eyes stared into mine, her perfume in my nost...ils, her full lips and bright teeth talking to me, she introduced herself to me Crystal, 19 years old student, on her way to her sister’s weddingAre you a professional photographer? Would you take photos of me? Can we go somewhere to talk? Crystal and I found a cafe where we each had a sandwich and a drink while flirting outrageously with each. This sounded more likethe Oatmeal Switch than food poisoning."No, oh fuck no. No," I croaked.Please, not that. I was a man, goddammit.I looked down in the bowl and it was still mostly white and red withlittle bits of brown. It looked... like oatmeal. Kind of. The sweatingwas the biggest clue, though. The two of them together probably couldn'tbe anything else. Oh fuck, where did I get it? At the game? Therestaurant? There were a ton of people in that truck stop bathroom. Whothe hell knows.I. . , Wait, did you just call me mother? It sounded like you were completely convinced now. What has changed?” Angelika asked.“I asked Uncle Emory if he remembered where that bunker was. He did, so I thought I might be able to visit it and find out a few answers.” Here Alan sighed.“Was it all bad news Alan?” Angelika asked a little afraid of what Alan had found or might not have found.“No, I wouldn’t say all bad news. I did find evidence of all of you, the assistant, the Doctor, and one other.. Something didn't look quite right about it. It was then she remembered—with a start—that a man was still waiting for her. He was the captain of the castle guard, one of the only people allowed into the Queen's private sitting room, here with some report or another. She allowed him to kneel, then took the scroll from him. "What's this?" A writ of execution, your majesty," said the captain. The Princess looked startled. The Queen bit her lip. "For whom?" "A woman in the township has been.