Shed really wandered off there. It had never been that bad before. She wasnt sure how many more she was going to have to kill but she certainly hoped her work would be over soon. If not, she wasnt sure how long shed be able to separate these two very different sides of her life. Even as she watched the children file out of the room, her mind was already wandering towards the plan of how to take the next life and what it might feel like to take just a single moment to truly enjoy that first push of the knife as it pushed through skin and muscle, tissue and life.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

There was a small group of protesters outside Regency Fertility Clinic when Rachel and Jack arrived. There was nothing destructive or overly boisterous taking place, just a gathered group of about a dozen people with Pro-Choice signs. Rachel wasnt quite sure why, but their presence aggravated hernot that she was vehemently on either side of that debate. It was just an unwanted and unexpected source of noise and distraction from the case.

That slight irritation followed her inside as she and Jack entered the clinic. The place was cool and air conditioned. The small waiting area outside of the appointments and reception area was decorated in a cute farmhouse style. Pregnancy and childcare magazines filled the small tables by the chairs.

As they approached the reception window with the smallest linethe window all the way to the right, only containing one other personRachel was bombarded with something else she did not expect. She felt an overwhelming depression trying to dig its claws in. Being here in the midst of hopeful women and couples that were fighting to do what they could to bring life into the world was a stark reminder of the rapidly approaching end of her own. She felt it pressing into her chest, a feeling not unlike a severe panic attack.

But before it had time to consume her, it was their turn at the reception window. She was so distracted by the feeling that it took a gently, prodding nudge from Jack to get her moving forward.

Can I help you? the receptionist behind the window asked. She seemed very cranky but was trying to mask it with some degree of professionalism. Rachel noted that she was wearing a light blue bandana over her head. From the looks of it, there was no hair underneath.

Rachel showed her badge and ID with a practiced fluidity that had come with years of making the motion. Agents Gift and Rivers, FBI, she said.

Hopefully here to send those protesters home? the receptionist said, making the object of her frustration known.