[Comprehensive English and American] Everything has a trajectory

The default social etiquette in the bar. "Reid was very puzzled.

Of course, Annabelle was not much better, "Well, I always thought so. But you must know that there are always many unknown additional terms in these social etiquettes."

So humans are really elusive creatures.

"Last time I—" Reid turned around and was about to say something before he paused.

Annabelle turned her head and saw a hand covering her wine glass, "You just had your stitches removed, you shouldn't be drinking at all."

Turning further, Anna saw Hotch.He was still wearing his work suit, but he looked more relaxed with his tie off.

"I haven't even started yet." Anna leaned against the bar with a chuckle, earrings slipping out of her long hair.

"Uh, that, I'm leaving first." Reid quickly ran away behind Annabelle.

Annabelle looked at the others he joined the BAU, gray eyes flickering in the dimness, "Your group looks a little tense, even here."

"I think they're still adjusting to the changes. Morgan has his way." Hotch's eyes fell on Anna calmly.

"So the paperwork is all his now?" Annabelle raised her eyebrows, showing much pleasure.

Hotch laughed too, "I think so."

"I was curious to gossip about someone asking you to be demoted." Annabelle put her elbows on the bar and fiddled with her earrings, "The water is really deep."

"It's always like this." Hotch pulled the glass out of Anna's hand again, not caring much.

"Youfellin love with the Bureau, but the Bureau does not love you back." Annabelle snorted, "But this should only be temporary. Some people think they are hunters, but in fact they are just prey. I am more worried about what you will do after this."

"Doing our job, it's no different."

Practical idealist, tsk.

"So why on earth are you here?" Annabelle tapped her fingertips on the table with a meaningful look on her face.

Hotch looked back at her innocently, "Because I want to see you?"

After that, she taught Mr. Hao Hao badly.

Wanting to maintain a calm face, Annabelle finally smiled and shook her head, "We can always see each other when we go home, at least after the test results in my hand come out. Why on earth did you see me as soon as you landed?"

Sure enough, Hotch's expression changed, "We found out that Foyet had contact with Karl Arnold and shared part of the plan with him."

Annabelle couldn't help but snort.

She remembers the family killer, so is there a serial killer club?

"By the way, you remember that Foyet's only target is you?" Annabelle's fingers ran up Hotch's wrist.

"But you're connected to me." Hotch grabs her hand back. "It won't take long for Foyet to figure that out and make you one of his targets."

Annabelle raised her eyebrows, "So it's a good thing he's dead, isn't it?"

"Anna," Hotch said with the seriousness of opening a difficult conversation, "did you let Foyet into your apartment to kill him?"

"I think we all know the answer to that question." Annabelle looked away into the drink in her glass.The world melts beautifully between the glass and the refraction of the liquid, the water in the gray eyes.

Sometimes Annabelle thinks of the knife in Foyet's hand.He will be satisfied with how he used the force last time, the trajectory of the swing this time, and where he will stab next time.What should she do to widen the distance between the two of them, should she hide or let the knife end.

Whether then or now, the endless analysis made her feel extremely reliable.Because Annabelle got a glimpse of that future, the inevitable future that the bullet passed right between Foyet's eyebrows.

"Besides," Annabelle flicked her wine glass, "one is enough to follow my serial killer, there is no need for another one."

Hotch pondered for a moment, then frowned, "We're not sure if Hannibal Lector is still alive."

Ah, looks like Hotch has checked her file clearance in the Behavior Analysis Department.

"Oh, he's still alive." Annabelle sneered, almost wanting to drink the wine in front of her, "He's alive and well."

Hearing this, Hotch's face darkened, "What do you know that we don't know."

Turning to look at a strangely shaped lamp behind Hotch, Annabelle sighed, "It's a long story, let's go home first, I can show it to you."

Chapter 11

The tap of high heels on the smooth floor of the apartment building echoed hollowly.

It's like stepping on a coffin. It occurred to Annabelle suddenly.The very crude kind.

Visible in the hallway lights, there was a brown brown paper parcel on the door of Annabelle's apartment.The two stopped beside the package at the same time.

Hotch looked at Annabelle who wasn't surprised at all.

Holding Hotch's wrist, Annabelle looked down at his watch, "It's past twelve, and he's never late."

Escaping is impossible, it is better to take the initiative to attack.

"Anna, who sent this?" Hotch looked at her with concern in his eyes.

Annabelle bent down and picked up the package and handed it to him, and began to look for the key to open the door, "You can see for yourself."

How do some people live so long?

Out of professional habits, Hotch first read the postmark on the package, "The shipping address is Las Vegas."

"It's customary." Annabelle opened the door and let the two of them in, looking tired, "Las Vegas, kraft paper, white envelope, no fingerprints."

"And ambergris." Fingers nimbly slipped under the string of the package, Annabelle said as she pulled out the greeting card from the envelope, holding the delicate paper to the tip of her nose.

Taking the greeting card from her, Hotch flipped it open to reveal the signature underneath.

Annabelle turned on the light in the foyer for the first time, and there was only one person's name on the file boxes that lined the entire wall.

HannibalLector

Taking off her high heels, Annabelle took the package and threw it into a particularly large box by the wall.

"He gives you a birthday present every year?" Hotch glanced into the box.

"As far back as I can remember." Annabelle stepped on the carpet with her bare feet and turned to sit on the arm of the sofa. "That's why I know he's alive and well."

She never moved after she entered the academy.Why bother?Everyone is tired. Lector had to find the address again, and Annabelle had to move such a large box of things around.

So bringing in George Foyet is really no big deal.She was ready, she was always ready.

Until the day Lector is no longer interested in Clarice Starling, until the day he needs a new toy.

"Anna—"

Annabelle looked up at Hotch, realizing without warning that her eyes were red, "It's like I've been stealing every minute of my life. Someday it's going to—"

Hotch raised his hand to touch the corner of her eye, and then kissed her softly.

With her eyes closed under the light, Anna could still smell the smell of wine brought in by them, which was light and cool.

"We'll get him," Hotch promised Anna solemnly, pulling her to sit on the couch.

Anna shook her head blankly, "I don't know. He's very old, maybe we don't have to wait until we do anything. I don't know if capturing him will really change anything."

Hotch listened quietly as she continued.

"My mum didn't realize she was pregnant with me until the eighth month and couldn't get an abortion after the second trimester. My dad obviously never wanted a biological baby and they already had my brother. Sometimes I'd feel like I shouldn't be here at all. That's why they left me so easily. Even if Lector really isn't a threat anymore, are they going to come back?" Annabelle rarely thought about it seriously, but she needed to Someone knew her horrible thoughts.

"You know it's not like that." Hotch hugged her, his palms gently moving back and forth on her back, "They love you and they're just doing this to keep you safe."

Annabelle blinked her sour eyes hard, "But I'd rather have them back."

She was almost unable to cry.

Pulling the distance between the two, Hotch said to Annabelle with a calm expression, "Since Jack Crawford passed away, no one has taken over the Lector case. The FBI has no information about your parents."