After the initial shock wore off, Clara felt hollow. Arguing with the man did nothing and whether or not she wanted to believe it, the evidence was overwhelming. Clara Carlson wasn't human any longer.

"I'm sure you have some questions for me." The man leaned back in the chair.

"What's your name? How did you know mine?"

"James Bishop. Your ID was in your bag." He reached next to him and picked up the small knapsack Clara had been carrying, tossing it to her. "We were a little confused by the New York license, scared you might be a tourist."

"Why would that matter?"

Clara opened the bag and looked...