(The following is a video log, made in the photos app on Valerie's phone, made by someone looking identical to her but going by the name of Penny Roberts. She is banged and bloody, and seems to be recording from a one person hospital bathroom.)

"A-alright, let's try this from the top."
"The date is May 26th. My name is Penny Roberts. I am thirty eight years old and live at 856 Hampshire St, San Francisco, California, with my Husband and children. I am currently at North Memorial Health Hospital in Minnesota. I have no memory of the past two months. Last I remember I was doing an investigation in Pacifica California."

*The camera is flipped around, revealing the face Penny now wears, with it's blonde hair and mismatched eyes.* 

"My... my body was changed... I can vaguely remember this face but... it illudes me. Though it seems to have a name: Valerie Smith. That's what the phone says, that is what the woman who brought me to the hospital says. They're going to examine me for head injuries but..."

*she drops her voice to barely a whisper* 

"I... I think this might be one of. Those supernatural things everyone keeps talking about. Calls them illuminations. Am I possessing this woman? Why can't I remember anything. What does my family think happen-"

*She is interrupted by gentle knocking on the door.*

"Miss Smith, are you in there? The doctor is ready to see you when you're done-"

*Loudly* "Just a minute!"

*To the camera* "End log"

I was offered a contract today, which I couldn't afford to go on. It was the middle of work, and I just couldn't go if I didn't want to get fired. I have gotten recent raises, and I'm moving up, working step by step into what I want to do. I'm close enough to taste it, my goal is in sight, and I've almost enough money to take that first step by leaving this place. No offense to Valerie, but this place just won't do for what I have in mind. I'm taking us to somewhere our skills will be the most useful. Full of spirits, but also people who need our help. A very public place too. Where news will catch like wildfire, be the talk of news and internet.

So I sadly had to decline. To play the long con meant to refuse the job, and focus on the one at hand, so I can be approved for transfer to New York City, and become a coroner there. And higher crime rates definitely mean more need for my job, and by extent, much much higher pay. More money to put my plan in motion. To afford gear, and also a nicer home base. Preferably one with more personal space. And thicker walls.

This town has merit though, and something I plan on using before I head out. There's an abandoned storage warehouse that I need to shoot some films at once I finally get the power to do so.