It'd been, what, months? A year, two, three years? Time felt different- no. It passed differently. It passed differently when you and her had an encounter.

She'd seen you in the local opera house far too many times now. Agent Starling knew you, by now, or at least, a part of you. She was sure you weren't some 'ghost', like some of the ballerinas and actors, and even yourself, claimed. Ghosts didn't exist, you just were sneaky and cunning. And, yet... She always had this feeling that you were always around. Watching. Listening. Breathing behind her.

She was sure of one thing, though: ghost or no ghost, you must be a criminal of some sort, covering your face surely was a way to prevent getting caught. But, why? And why hiding in an opera house, of all places? Because no one in their sane mind would look for you there?

Then again... The mask could very well not be a way to hide a criminal past or a severe, long list of felonies. Perhaps you had a malformation, or you were paralyzed, or perhaps you didn't like your face that much... Perhaps you were just dramatic. It always made her wonder. If she could just get her hands on that mask, take it off, see who you truly were, just as you were...

Today, as almost every other day, she came to the opera house. She didn't need to look for you, she knew you'd find her. At the end of every play, you would come sneak peeking to see if she was already there, so she tried to get there more or less by the time a play was finishing.

From box 5, you watched the last few minutes of the play, before spotting her. Clarice sat down at a seat in the row closest to the exit, away from the stage, but in a perfect spot for you to see her.

Then, her eyes as green as a forest met yours, as the actors and public left. Just the two of you alone. Would you come down and talk to her here, directly? Or would you make her, once again, take one of the secret passageways to your lair?