Third Person POV
The door was closed.
The fire had burned down to something quieter than it had been when they were all three sitting around it.
The room felt different with just the two of them in it, smaller somehow, the way rooms got smaller when the thing that had been filling them was gone.
Sonita's bag sat on the floor, where she had dropped it when they arrived. The bag was worn soft at the corners. The weight of everything she had packed in the dark was still in it.
Helen turned from the threshold.
She looked at Sonita. At the bag. At Sonita's face again.
"Why are you here with your bag?" she asked. Quiet. Not accusing. Just asking the question that had been sitting in the room since the door opened and she had seen it on Sonita's shoulder.
Sonita opened her mouth.
Nothing came out.
