4338.211 · July 30, 2018 AD
The Armour Returns
The windows clear. Karl's defence mechanism engages—detective reasserting control over vulnerability he can't process. Behind his eyes, a name rises with inexplicable certainty: Beatrix Cramer. Sarah watches him pull away emotionally before he pulls away physically, her satisfaction transforming into confusion, then hurt. He reaches across to open her door. Not cruelty, but survival—shutting down what terrifies him. She stands in an empty carpark watching taillights disappear. The most intense intimacy of her life, and he's already gone.
Fog fades from windows. Condensation runs in rivulets, exposing them to outside world. Sarah's breathing still ragged, body still humming. She looks at Karl with unguarded vulnerability, expecting reciprocation.
Karl feels himself surfacing. Rational thought reasserting dominance over animal brain. Defence mechanism engaging without permission—disengaging from what happened, from her, from terrifying implications. The detective armoring up after being too naked.
Behind his closed eyes, the case rearranges itself. Patterns emerging. A name rising: Beatrix Cramer.
Sarah's confusion sharp when he announces his plan. Who is Beatrix? Why is he thinking about investigation instead of them?
He pulls fresh t-shirt from prepared duffel bag. Changes whilst explaining. Then the words: "And I need to go alone."
Her expression freezes—shock morphing into hurt. He reaches across her without explanation, finds door handle, pushes it open. Message brutally clear.
She gathers clothes with trembling hands. "You can be such a prick sometimes, Karl." Door slams, rocking the car.
Karl sits in loaded silence, guilt clawing at his resolve. But the pull towards Beatrix stronger than regret. He watches her dress in his rear-view mirror—stiff with cold and rejection both.
Turns key. Drives away without looking back. Beatrix's name echoing like summoning spell he can't resist.
