Olivia.
Palmer remembered the name, and even more so the face as vague as a dream encounter. Even though several years had passed since their first meeting, when Palmer saw her again, the once blurred memories became clear, overlapping and shifting in his eyes.
"Damn! What's going on!"
As a Clark, Palmer's vigilance against the Night Race was etched in his blood. Even though Bologue had given him a heads-up, his reaction was still intense, as if he wanted to immediately press a dagger against Olivia's throat and cut fiercely.
"You bastard! You bastard!"
Palmer glanced at Olivia, then at Bologue, his hand waving the dagger incessantly.
Bologue guessed Palmer wanted to say something silly like, "How did someone like you end up with the Night Race," but clearly, the extreme development had left him incoherent.
So much so that Palmer completely ignored the blaring alarm.
"Quiet down, Palmer."
Bologue reached out again to cover Palmer's mouth, while he gave Olivia a knowing look.
