“You’re talking to a lawyer who’s based her life in the concrete, provable, immutable world of facts.”

“I know. I also see a questioning mind beyond that concrete world. Perhaps your sister has had an influence on you, as I seem to have, since I remind you of her.”

“You’re clever, Miss Valen.”

“Only in that I thought I would give you a perspective on more than one side of a man. More than the common wisdom.”

“You haven’t shown this to anyone else, have you?”

“Only you.”

And while Dominique realized this wasn’t the perfect time, she knew there might not be another.

“May I ask you a question, Isabel?”

“Go ahead.”

“If I were to ask you about ‘the girl,’ would that mean anything?”

Isabel’s quick intake of breath told Dominique there was more here to unpack.

“I have no idea what you mean.”

“As a lawyer, how would you react to the response you just gave me?”

“I’m not on trial here.”

“No one is. You can trust me.”

Dominique waited. She knew Isabel had something vital to say, and gave her the time and space to say it.

“You seem to have found a way to process what happened to you in the desert, Miss Valen, and have channeled it into examining the core of terrorism.”

Another diversion. But Dominique was no longer willing to play along.

“And you? What have you found in your searching?”

Dominique watched Isabel being thrust into revealing something she seemed no longer able to contain.

“My sister believes in miracles. I don’t. I believe they’re steeped in a manipulative myth that does nothing but placate and anesthetize.”

Dominique saw Isabel grappling with something deeper, and pushed her toward it.

“I happen to agree with you. Is your sister in your life now? Is that why these feelings are so raw?”

“Yes. She’s in my life now,” Isabel said, and turned away.

Dominique could see Isabel was embarrassed. She let the discomfort be. Dominique knew truth would reveal itself in its own way. She saw Isabel stiffen, her head bent back and her gaze went toward the ceiling.

“You need to tell someone what’s going on, Isabel. You can’t keep whatever it is, inside. Believe me, I’ve tried. It doesn’t work.”

There was no sound like what had come into the warehouse, and penetrated Dominique, but what she saw happening to Isabel she knew was creating a space for truth.

“You found something in the warehouse, didn’t you?” Isabel asked.

“How do you know that?”

Isabel turned back to her.

Their eyes locked.

“You can trust me.”

“Can I?”

“Yes.”