Joelle returns / the Sheriff's car — "She wasn’t dumb—she figured it was…"

Joelle reads her own release as tradecraft: freed only as bait, to be tailed back to whatever she'd lead them to. And she walks home into a convergence of watchers she is fully aware of — the "outside-linebacker of a federal lady" (Steeply) she'd nearly unveiled herself to shake, the A.F.R. "wheelchairs" she means to have Pat dismantle the ramp against, and, cleared past the Shed, "the Middlesex County Sheriff's car […] parked idling in the roadlet outside the ramp, wipers on Occasional, a uniform at the wheel absently feeling his face." Three surveillance operations — federal, terrorist, municipal — stacked on one veiled woman in one page, and the scene's point is that she sees all of them: the target here is the most surveillance-literate person on the property.