Another day, another instance of having no news about Ivonne Schofield's whereabouts.
Maybe we can score a big break today, and we have nothing else better to do.
On this fair day, we three decide to go out on a walk through the streets of the Big A.
Besides some people recognizing us and waving at us, there's nothing or no one else that catches out attention.
Except for someone, who wears a trench-coat that covers them from head to toe, with matching sunglasses to obscure the face and a surgical mask to obscure the mouth.
Yeah, that get-up alone is suspicious enough.
And we have this gut feeling… that they're one-half of the so-called "trench-coat mafia" and that they're none other than the elusive Ivonne.
As if by instinct, we go after them.
With our heightened, adrenaline-fueled running speeds, we try our best not to lose sight of the trench-coated figure.
