[She wakes up to a weight closeby, and that’s not new. Doesn’t remember falling asleep, but that’s not new, either. Curled on her side in a bed that’s not her own… eh, give or take. It reminds her not to reach out before the impulse can move. Still…

[Why do her eyes blink apart to hair too yellow to be warm, a face too round? Shut again, mental rewind: Vi woke up. (Maddie dismissed.) An argument. Vi left, again. A release, a confession; tense, exhausting. A meeting, then…

[A talk with a tired man, about war and… “personal bias”—

[She looks at the face across from her with open eyes and bolts upright, staring and stunned. Since when…?]