[ Well, that's encouraging. That small smile gives Alan the smallest glimmer of hope that maybe this isn't a fool's errand, that coming here won't accomplish anything except for causing confusion for both of them.

She lets him in, and she agrees to let him use her bathroom, which is honestly more than he'd expected. He tries to not take too long, but he manages to clean off his hands and splashes some water on his face both to clean up but also to try and keep himself awake. It's not that he's in danger of falling asleep standing up, but he's been going for who knows how long, and who knows how long he'll have to keep going. The coffee might help if she still offers it to him, but this is the next best thing until then.

While he's drying off his hands and face, his mind is already off and spinning. He had seen the wall of notes, and it brings to mind the notes he saw her working on in the diner. There's only so many people who take notes like that: law enforcement, reporters, and investigators. Maybe that's it. Maybe she's a private investigator working on something. Either way, she could be useful.

When he finally joins her again in the living room, in spite of himself, he all but makes a beeline for that cup of coffee. He doesn't chug it down, but he sips at it as if it's the best thing he's had in years. ]

I- uh, well, it's going to sound insane, but some insane things have happened over the last... Actually, I don't know. It could be hours, but maybe it's days. [ His eyes shift to look at the clock on the wall and he notes the time. It doesn't do him much good for forming a frame of reference, however. ]

I can't go to the police. I don't know why, I just- [ He lowers his voice. ]

I don't know who around here I can actually trust. [ But I'm going to trust a girl I saw in a diner writing notes. That makes a lot of sense. ]

First, I need to ask: are you from around here? There's a method to this, really.