"I can't come up with a single good idea on how I could take out this stupid city! Maybe I'm going about this all wrong," she tried to reason with herself. Time and time again, her thoughts crept back to the reclusive rodent in the warehouse.

Something about his name rang familiar -- a long lost memory trapped within the shadowed recesses of Tegwen's mind. Yet now they were only ghosts, glimpses into ancient history. There had been a news report; something about the Audubon Bay Bridge and the National Guard. She needed to remember. And then it was gone. Not the memory, for that still played out in front of her, but the broadcast itself. The television was dark, silenced by a much more naive version of herself. She was in her own room, safe within the walls of her old home in St. Canard. She reminisced, amazed that the only care she had that day was how her favorite show had been interrupted by inconsiderate, real-life events. She was still living a charmed existence, safe within the shelter of Giffen and Beitiris' home.

Oh, but if she could only warn herself of the horrors that skulked in the shadows of her life a mere week later. But just like dreams at the crack of dawn, memories faded away when the harsh truth of reality broke. Trying to change one's own past was something only angels flaunted and the damned dared. After staring at the dried mud puddle, going relatively thoughtless for near to a half hour, Tegwen finally gave up and left the bridge for the second time that day.