Disclaimer: I do not own anything from The Interpreter.


It might have been because years ago she had heard the noise day in and day out; lived with the constant possibility that today would be her last. Or perhaps it was because she was already on edge; in her apartment she had felt trapped, like a bird behind bars of steel as her mind had spun crazily. Whatever the reason, during a pause between the thunder as the rain fell, Silvia hears the distant sound of gunshots several feet above her – from her apartment.

Her heart leaps up into her throat, and she freezes on the fire escape – for a moment at a loss. Who is inside? Has someone come to try to murder her? Instantly she continues her climb down the fire escape, her pace quicker despite the danger of her slipping on the wet steps. She grips the strap of the bag on her shoulder. The gunshots echo in her ears.

Panting, she is a story from the ground now when a shout floats down to her:


The woman gasps and tilts her head back, turning her gaze a little to the left of the fire escape. High above her she sees the light pouring from her bathroom window which is wide open. Faintly, she thinks she makes out a silhouette against the brightness.


Turning her gaze away, she hurries on her way. She cannot turn back…


The call is almost drowned out by the rain as she nears the end of her descent. She wonders what has become of her intruder. Had Tobin been watching across the street? Is he…unhurt?

She has not thought of the Secret Service agent since settling on her plan. And she need not, for she is going home. She does not have to dwell on him.

She imagines him saying her name again as she, soaked, creeps down a back alley, away from her apartment building. The place will be swamped with police in just a matter of minutes. She will be safely away from here when they start searching for her. She shall vanish without a word or trace. They will not realize what she has done until she is once again in Africa. She is losing nothing by leaving.

Digging deep into her jacket pocket, she feels the business card Tobin had given her at their first meeting. She grimaces.

"Silvia…" His voice had been frantic when she heard him shout into the stormy night. Never had she heard or seen any hint of such emotion from him before. Being an interpreter, she could read people very well; their tones of voice, body posture, facial expressions were windows to her seeing their moods and thoughts. But Tobin Keller was one who puzzled her. He was suspicious of her, which he had made very clear from the beginning. It was hard to see what was going on behind his piercing eyes, to read his thoughts in his face, though. Only three times before had Silvia seen his professional composure slip to reveal frustration, grief, and anger. And tonight she'd heard something strange in his voice…regarding her.

She is surprised by this thought, she decides as she hails a taxi, thankful to get out of the pouring rain, if at least for a little while.

After Tobin had blown up at her following the bus explosion, the tension had amazingly melted away between them. Something had changed between them as he'd started to clean her face. Something silently, quietly happened that caused Silvia not to push him away but lean into him. And he had accepted her, gently putting his arms about her.

A strange feeling quivers in her stomach as she recalls awaking in the morning to discover him still there, sitting with her on the couch, brushing her hair slowly.

Silvia has the taxi drop her off a few blocks from the United Nations building. She had thought earlier about how there is nothing else for her here, how she is losing nothing returning to her home. A grain of uncertainty come over her as Tobin's face fills her mind's eye.

She tries to shake away the image. She's leaving. But…she could just let him know she is all right so he won't worry…

Before she can change her mind, she heads toward the pay phone at the corner.