Olica stared through our bedroom window while Nina remained upright beneath one blanket. I wore a gray shirt plus dark sweatpants, which made the situation innocent without making it less private. The rollaway stood open near the window as visible evidence nobody should require.
Nina raised one hand toward her sister, then closed the curtain without hiding beneath it. She looked at me, breathed through irritation, plus asked whether I wanted five minutes before family contact; I said yes.
"She knew the location because she is my safety contact," Nina said, checking the message thread where Olica never mentioned a job, "but she did not book this after learning our cabin number."
"Do you believe that?" I asked, keeping suspicion from becoming an accusation toward an absent person.
"Her photography booking existed before our trip," Nina replied, finding the project announcement dated three weeks ago, "the reserve assigned cabins yesterday."
