They rounded the corner at a dead run and although Mal had loved his ship from the moment he laid eyes on her, he was never more grateful to see the firefly sitting patiently, waiting for its captain.

The whiz of a bullet just over his head snapped his attention back to the unruly situation at hand. Risking a glance over his shoulder he caught sight of both Jayne and Zoe, keeping pace, and the three goons behind them, gaining ground.

Puffing slightly at the exertion, Zoe looked to the captain and said, “This your idea of recon, sir?”

“Nah,” Mal told her, swinging his gun around and firing a few sporadic shots. “Normally there’s more shooting.”

Zoe gave him a look, but didn’t respond and Mal grinned despite himself. At least they had gotten the info they needed. Sterns had spilled enough to give Mal a pretty good guess as to who had taken the boy and his sister. Now, all they had to do was figure out a way to take them back.

“Gorram it, Mal,” Jayne grunted, firing off his own round of warning shots. “Why we goin’ to all this trouble over that fancy pants doc and his moon brained sister?”

Mal sighed as they sprinted the last few feet up the ship’s ramp. There were some things Jayne would never, ever understand. Motioning to Zoe, he looked up to see she had already depressed the ramp’s release and Mal was grateful to see it rising shut; granted a little slowly, but these things couldn’t be helped.

Doubling over with his hands on his knees, trying to catch his breath, he looked to Jayne and said, “Jayne, I do not want to keep having this argument with you. Simon and River are part of my crew. Period.”

“Mal!”

Any retort died on Jayne’s lips as Inara rushed into the bay, concern etched into her normally serene features. Mal glanced in her direction slightly startled to see such emotion from her. He barely registered the boat taking off.

Zoe jogged up the stairs towards the bridge and her husband, thankful to be off this ruttin’ planet. Of course the reception awaiting them at the next would be worse, but that was part of the job. Jayne continued grumbling, and he pushed past Inara as she came to Mal’s side. “I’ll be in my bunk!”

Coming to him, Inara bent down to place a supporting hand on Mal’s back and shoulder. Looking into his eyes, she asked, “Are you all right?”

Mal didn’t even want to think about what her light touch did to him. Shrugging her off, he straightened stiffly and said, “Yeah, I’m fine.” He went to take a step away from her and almost collapsed. She caught him, albeit a little clumsily as his weight far surpassed her own and gently guided him to a lower stair a few steps away.

Once he was seated she gave him a cursory glance and her eyes widened when she saw the root of the problem; there was a puddle of blood soaking through the lower portion of Mal’s right pant leg. Leaning down, she lifted up the wet fabric and gasped. He’d been shot.

“Well, would you look at that,” Mal said half-heartedly, turning his head away at the sight of so much blood. He could handle looking at the fluids of over folk, but not his own. That was just downright creepy.

“Oh, Mal,” Inara breathed, removing a shawl from her shoulders and wadding it up to press to the wound. Mal reached out a hand although he was getting weaker, and said, “Don’t. You’ll ruin it.”

Fixing him with a look that he quickly identified as annoyance, she batted his hand away and put heavy pressure on the wound. “Gaahh, woman,” Mal hissed through clenched teeth as the pounding got worse. “You tryin’ to kill me?”

Inara looked up at him, ready to give a snappy retort, when she saw his eyes roll back in his head and she knew he would soon be unconscious. Turning back toward the common room, she yelled, “Zoe! Wash! Get down here! Mal’s hurt.”

***

The first time Simon awoke he was acutely aware of two things. First, the horrific and painful throbbing in his head. It felt as though someone or something had buried themselves inside his skull with a hammer and was trying to pound their way back out. Second, was the churning of his stomach, reacting to the pain in his head. With little awareness of his actions, he retched violently over the side of his bed, before again collapsing into unconsciousness.

When Simon awoke the second time he was grateful that the pain in his head had subdued to a persistent and steady throb. That he could handle. He was also more aware of his surroundings. With a quick glance at the ceiling, he squeezed his eyes shut and said a silent prayer that he wasn’t where he thought. Opening his eyes again and allowing the room to come into focus, his heart sank as he realized that prayer wouldn’t be answered.

He could have recited every piece of furniture, every painting, every nook and cranny of the large room around him. He could even have pointed out the dent in the molding near the closet where he and River had once smashed a baseball bat into the soft wood. It had been his first and only attempt at indoor sports.

He knew the room so well because it had once been his, which meant his father had succeeded. His father had succeeded in stealing him and his sister and bringing them back to their “normal” life on Osiris. Which meant there were just days, maybe hours, before River would again be an Alliance pin cushion. Which meant Simon had just hours to formulate a new escape plan and set it into motion.

He needed to get up. Attempting to pull himself into a sitting position, the movement brought a strong wave of nausea and good bit of dizziness. Flopping back down on the bed, Simon gingerly brought a hand to the back of his head, remembering fuzzily the last few minutes before the world had gone black. There had been a loud and hard crack, and as Simon gently probed the skin at the nape of his neck, he felt the tender bruise where something had struck him. Just brushing it with his fingertips elicited a wave of pain and Simon bit his lip at the sensation. Yes, he had a wicked concussion and Simon quickly became thankful that he had even awoken at all.

“We had Doctor Winters come and examine you.”

The voice startled him and Simon turned his head quickly in the direction of the sound; too quickly. This motion brought another wave of nausea and Simon again heaved, emptying the nothing that was in his stomach. Guessing by his location and the feeling in the pit of his gut, he’d been out for at least three days.

The figure rose and came to his side, pulling a damp cloth from a bowl by the bed and dabbing his brow. He would have recognized her even if she hadn’t done this for him every time he’d been sick throughout childhood. Raising his hand, he stilled hers and whispered, “Mom.”

Unbidden tears came to the woman’s eyes and Simon caught a glimpse of her face in the dim lamp light. If he had thought his father had not aged well, then his mother had one foot in the grave. Her cheeks were hollow, stretched with pale skin and the hand he held was bony. Judging by the grayish tint to her skin and her eyes, the doctor in him guessed she had been diagnosed with some disease since he had left home. If forced to, he would have guessed cancer. They had a family history.

“Oh, Simon,” she whispered, reaching down and placing a kiss on his forehead before enveloping him in a hug. As he had with his father, Simon leaned into the embrace for just a moment. Sick or no, his mother still smelled of cherries and vanilla and he took a deep breath, trying to again file the scent away in his memory banks.

When he knew he had indulged long enough, he stiffened under her hold. Sensing the change, his mother stood awkwardly and looked down at him, uncertain of what to do. Finally, she said, “Doctor Winters said you would be fine. Just a concussion. You probably shouldn’t be up and about though for a few more days.”

Shaking his head slightly, Simon frowned at her. “Well, I’m afraid I’m going to have to override the doctor’s orders. River and I need to get out of here, now.”

His mother inhaled sharply at the thought and while Simon did not think it possible, actually got paler in the process. “Simon, don’t say that. We finally got you home.”

“By kidnapping us,” he bit out, his anger at their father quickly boiling over to encompass the woman standing in front of him. Her expression became more pained and Simon felt a twinge of guilt. Taking a deep breath, he continued, “Mom, if we don’t leave soon the Alliance is going to track us here and they’re –“ He broke off, his throat constricting at the idea of his sister, back in that room, strapped to a chair with electrodes and wires wreaking havoc on her system. Clearing the disturbing image, he said, “Mom, please. I worked so hard to get River away from there, to keep her safe. I need you and Dad to let us go.”

His mother had backed away slowly as he’d spoken and he could see fear in her eyes. He knew by her expression she’d seen River, probably even tried to spend time with her, but he could also tell by the haunted look that she had seen what Simon saw everyday. She had experienced her daughter’s psychosis firsthand. And just like their father, she was going to ignore it.

“Your sister is just disoriented, Simon,” his mother explained, sinking into a chair by the door. “She’ll be fine after a few days of sleep and regular meals. She just –“

A scream ripped through the room, shredding Simon’s heart in the process. He knew that sound; it was River and she was in pain. Tears sprang to his eyes as he searched his mother’s face for help. “Please, mom. I have to see her. Let me see her.”

Shaking her head quickly, Regan Tam rose and opened the door, the scream getting louder as the heavy wood got out of the way. “No, Simon. Orders from your father. You are to have no contact with your sister until we get her under control. Just rest son.”

With that death blow, she exited the room and shut the door quickly, and Simon heard the lock engage. So it had come to this. His parents in denial, his sister in pain and him a prisoner in his own house. River’s scream continued for a few more moments and then, as quickly as it had started, it stopped. Simon released a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding, and completely at a loss, rolled onto his side and sobbed into his pillow.

***

“What did you find out?” Inara spoke in a hushed tone, standing outside the infirmary with the other members of the crew. She wanted Mal to stay asleep for as long as possible. While the bullet hadn’t hit anything important, he’d lost a lot of blood and he’d need his strength for whatever came next.

Zoe shrugged and looked to Jayne before answering. “What we ‘spected. Simon and River got snatched by a bounty hunter looking for the Alliance’s reward.”

Kaylee inhaled sharply and placed a hand over her mouth to suppress a whimper. Unable to hear more, she turned and walked into the infirmary standing next to the captain’s bed. Inara didn’t stop her; the girl could only take so much.

“So, where are they,” Inara pressed. “With the Alliance?”

“No,” Zoe told them, glancing to her husband. “No, actually this bounty hunter decided why only cash in once, when you can cash in twice for double the work.” At the sight of the companion’s furrowed brow, Zoe elaborated, “He stole ‘em first for their father. Now, it appears in a few days, he’s going back to Osiris to steal them for the Alliance. We have a very small window of opportunity.”

“I’ll say,” Wash commented, whistling softly. “So, the guy snatches ‘em off the ship in the dead of night to give them to their dad and then plans to snatch ‘em again in the dead of night to give them to the Alliance.” Looking to his wife, he said, “I don’t like the outcome of either of those scenarios.”

“Neither do I.”

They all turned to see Mal standing in the doorway from the infirmary, one hand on the jamb and his other wrapped around Kaylee’s shoulders. She was looking to him with such hope in her eyes, Mal had to force himself to look somewhere else. Since he’d gotten the full story on the Tams’ situation, he had been losing faith that they could actually get the doc and his sister back. And God help him, Mal did not want to be the way to break that news to his mechanic.

“What do you want to do, sir?” Zoe kept her eyes on the captain, awaiting her next order.

“Mal, you really should sit,” Inara admonished him, moving forward to help him into a chair.

Waving her off, he said, “I got it, I got it.” Hobbling forward, he fell more than sat down, but at least the weight was off his leg. Resenting his stubbornness Inara crossed her arms over her chest waited for him to continue. “Wash, how far away is Osiris?”

Running a hand through his light hair, Wash did the math quickly. “At full burn, I’d say about twelve hours. Give or take an hour or so.”

Nodding at the man’s assessment, Mal gritted his teeth against the pain in his leg and he motioned Kaylee forward. She came at his call, and he took one of her hands in his. “Lil’ Kaylee, do you think you can make it faster?”

“I’ll try, cap’n,” she whispered and without another word headed for the engine room.

Looking back to the rest of his team, he said, “All right. Wash go lay in a course for Osiris. Zoe I need you to pull up everything you can on the Tams. I want to know the names of their pets, how many lights they got in their house and when the last time was the flushed a toilet – all of it.” Zoe and Wash departed quickly, heading for the bridge. “Jayne, I need you in charge of weapons.” Jayne grunted once and headed for his bunk. “No grenades,” Mal yelled after him, getting a dismissive wave in reply.

Only Inara was left now. Grimacing again at a fresh throbbing in his leg, Mal let a small moan escape his lips. Her momentary annoyance forgotten, Inara kneeled in front of him and took his hand. “What do you want me to do, Captain?”

Mal looked into her deep brown eyes and almost drowned. Forcing himself to focus on the task at hand, he placed a hand on her shoulder and said quietly, “Once we reach Osiris, I want you to take Kaylee and fly your shuttle out of there. I’ll give you a rendezvous spot and you can hold tight until we get back.”

Inara could read the fear in his eyes and although she knew he was doing this for both her safety and Kaylee’s she still resented the implication that she needed protecting. “You are a bigger {jackass} than I thought,” she told him angrily, straightening and storming quickly from the room.

“What,” Mal yelled to no one. “I was just trying to be noble!”

***

“Two by two, hands of blue … two by two, hands of blue …”

Gabriel sat across the room from his tiny, scared daughter as she shivered, inconsolable in the corner of her old bedroom. He and Regan had changed nothing in the three years she’d been gone. All her dolls and toys, her science kits and dance leotards were still in place and Gabriel had hoped they would bring her comfort. But instead, the sight of the place, of him and her mother had brought screams and tears and this horrible ditty that she refused to stop singing.

Gabriel had tried to reach her on several separate occasions over the past few days. He had tried to talk with her, sit with her, hold her – which had gone particularly badly as the bruise firming up on his cheek could attest – but nothing reached her. She continued to rock herself back and forth, knees drawn to her chest, shaking. Every once in a while, she would stop singing, stop moving all together and Gabriel suspected her body was giving up the fight, however briefly, and letting her sleep. But quickly, too quickly, she’d be awake again, moaning and muttering to herself – and singing.

She had refused to lie in bed, refused to eat, refused to shower or change. She had not asked Gabriel or Regan for anything. She hadn’t even spoken a word to them since they’d brought her to the room from the shuttle. She was not the daughter he’d known and that filled him with an uncontrollable anger towards his son.

He had been unable to see Simon since that day outside the firefly on Ariel. As he had been further introduced to River’s craziness, Gabriel became more and more convinced that it was all a result of Simon’s own paranoia and delusions. Truly, the boy had made up crazy tales before, but this was beyond even what his parents had thought him capable of. He had made River a shell of the girl she had once been, convincing her that secret agents were out to get her and would only torture her if she were ever caught. Convincing her that staying on that piece of luh so in the middle of space was the only place she’d be safe. It angered Gabriel that Simon had robbed him of both his children. He was determined to at least get River back.

He heard the whisper of a door open and tore his eyes away from his daughter’s trembling form to see Regan peer into the room. Gesturing her forward, Gabriel took her hand and guided her towards River. “Look, River, sweetie,” Gabriel said softly, gently, as if speaking to a frightened and feral animal. “It’s your mom. Don’t you want to say hi?”

Gabriel looked to Regan sternly and she got the hint. Squatting in front of River, she reached a hand towards her, stopping a few inches from the curtain of hair covering her face. “River, sweetheart. How are you?”

Releasing a violent string of Mandarin curse words, River brought her mother into focus long enough to spit a wad of phlegm on her and then she again retreated into herself and kept singing.

Shocked beyond words, Regan crouched, frozen for a moment, until she felt Gabriel take her hand and pull her up. Placing a hand on the small of her back, he guided his wife from the room, pulling her into the hallway and shutting the door behind them.

Reaching into his front breast pocket, he removed his handkerchief and wiped the spittle from his wife’s cheek in silence. Regan was again crying silent tears, she had been ever since he’d returned with River and Simon, and she searched her husband’s face for some kind of answer. Gabriel didn’t have one.

“Is Simon awake,” he asked stiffly, refolding the cloth and placing it in his pocket.

Regan nodded and said, “He heard River scream. He wants to see her.”

Gabriel’s eyes narrowed at the thought. “There is no way our son is going anywhere near that girl until we can get her under control.”

Regan saw the fire burning in his eyes and she knew it was fueled by love; love of River and love of the family they had once been. But it was a fire that was dictating his actions – actions she did not approve of. “What if we can’t,” she whispered, her tears falling more freely now. “What if Simon is the only person who can reach her?”

“That’s nonsense, Regan,” Gabriel told her, pulling his wife into an embrace. She was so small against him now. Ever since the diagnosis he had noticed her shrinking every time he took her hand or held her close. It made him realize with a certainty he didn’t like how fragile she was. “We are River’s parents and whatever has happened to her, we can help her. Of course, we can.”

Regan pulled back to look into her husband’s eyes and saw a hint of his old warmness there. She wanted to believe him, against anything else in the ‘verse, but she had spoken with Simon. She had seen the desperation in his eyes to get back to his sister, had seen the fear in them when they’d heard River scream and Regan knew those emotions could not be imitated. They could only be felt and if Simon, her intelligent, genius of a son felt River was in danger, then Regan had to believe him. But she didn’t have to tell her husband.

***

“River? Sweetheart?”

Gabriel still got no answer. After he’d sent Regan away, his wife’s nerves were shot, Gabriel had again entered River’s room and tried to reach her. She stayed in the corner, curled into the smallest of balls, shaking, crying and murmuring nonsense. And with each passing moment it made Gabriel’s stomach churn more intensely.

There were so many things Gabriel had imagined he would tell his daughter, when he saw her again. So many memories they would reminisce over and jokes they could share. When Gabriel and Regan had lost her – well, when Simon had stolen her those many months ago, the bottom had dropped out for them both and the only thing that had kept Gabriel going was the thought of his little girl back home.

Gabriel and Regan had both seen Simon slowly spiraling out of control. He was heartbroken when River first went away to school and truth be told, so was River. The two siblings had always been close – often completing each other’s sentences to the point that Gabriel had thought they might have a special, unseen connection that gave them insight into each other’s minds. Of course, he had quickly dismissed that thought as absurd.

So when Simon came to his parents and insisted River was trying to communicate with them, in secret, they had of course been incredulous. Regan and Gabriel received regular progress reports from the Academy and River waved them at least once a week. They knew she was fine and that should have been enough for Simon.

But no, he had made it his life’s mission to destroy their family. And not in a private or personal way. No, his son, one of the top trauma surgeons in Capitol City could not avoid the spotlight and so he had pranced around the city meeting with the most unsavory of men, having clandestine appointments in forbidden sections of the city and then getting caught, so everyone, all of the Tams’ respectable friends would find out. And the Tams would become the family everyone whispered about at dinner parties.

It had shamed Gabriel to no end that his son, his only son, had decided to trash the family name Gabriel had spent his entire adult life working to build. And he had done it was such casualness, as though his thoughts and feelings were all that mattered. As if he knew River better than anyone and so therefore it was his duty to come to her rescue – even though she was fine.

Regan and Gabriel were not idiots. As soon as Simon had sent up a flare that something with River might be amiss, the parents had made the trek to the Academy meeting with their girl face to face. And she had been fine. Simon had refused to believe their assessment and from that point on the tone between parents and son had been chilly at best.

When they got the call, in the middle of the night, that River was gone, Gabriel’s heart had fallen out of his chest. It was as if his world had stopped making sense; what should be down was up and what should have been left was right. Regan immediately withdrew into herself, crying uncontrollably for days at a time. She had been unable to watch the holo feed the authorities had shown him. But Gabriel had watched every second with a fierce determination to bring his children back home.

While Simon might have initially acted out of a self-imposed heroic motivation, the minute he’d entered that facility with the intent of taking River was the minute Gabriel had known he was completely out of control. It wasn’t uncommon for top surgeons to suffer mental breakdowns; in fact, it was even expected. And with Simon being so smart and so young, many people jumped to the conclusion for Gabriel, making it easier to fabricate the lie; that Simon had left for a sabbatical, to regain his focus. Only Gabriel and Regan knew that their son had completely lost his mind and was dragging his brilliant sister down with him.

Realizing he’d been staring off into nothing, Gabriel brought his focus back to River and saw that there had been no change. Rising slowly, he thought about staying with her, just so she wouldn’t be alone and decided no good could come of it. From what he could tell, she didn’t even know he was in the room.

Sighing heavily, he opened and shut her down, closing it soundly behind him. He glanced down the long and dark hall and considered speaking with Simon, but he couldn’t bring himself to face his son just yet. The boy needed help and until the doctor returned to speak with him, Gabriel thought it best to steer clear; for Simon’s sake and his own.

Instead, he crossed the hall to his study, shutting the door and seating himself at the large mahogany desk. Swiveling in the wingback chair, he flipped on his comm and waited for the cortex to appear. Keying in a sequence he knew by heart, he waited for the wave to reach its recipient. When the screen blinked to life, the face on the other end was older, but benevolent and Gabriel smiled despite of himself. It was always good to see old friends.

“Mr. Tam, what a pleasant surprise,” the man said. “We haven’t heard from you in a few months. Is everything all right?”

Gabriel nodded and leaned forward, resting his hands on the desk in front of him and giving the man a grave look. “It is indeed,” he reported. “I actually have some good news. River’s back and I think we need to finish her schooling. She could use some familiarity right now.”

The other man’s expression flickered for just a moment and too quickly for Gabriel to pick up on. “That is good news indeed, Mr. Tam,” he agreed. “Good news indeed.”

***

Simon had drifted off again. Cursing himself for his weakness, he blinked his eyes quickly to regain focus on the room. It was dark now, the curtains drawn against the night sky. His head was not pounding as consistently as before and the nausea in his stomach had been replaced by a gnawing hunger. I must be feeling better, he thought to himself.

Well enough to get of here. Swinging his legs over the edge of the bed, he placed his bare feet on the plush, carpeted floor and stood slowly, keeping one hand on the bed so as not to lose his balance. When he was fully standing, he swayed in place for a moment, an unexpected wave of dizziness making him a bit unsteady on his feet. Closing his eyes and breathing deeply, Simon felt it pass. He also felt cold. Looking down, he realized he’d only been sleeping in pajama bottoms and he groped at the end of the bed for the robe he knew would be there. Closing his fingers around the soft fabric, he smiled tightly. Old habits die hard.

Pulling on the robe and cinching it around his waist, he felt his way to the door. He couldn’t run the risk of turning on a light and alerting anyone to his movements. But he didn’t need it anyway. He could have walked the entire estate and grounds blindfolded and backwards. After all, he had spent his childhood here and it was as much a part of him as River was.

River. The thought of her, scared and shivering brought his focus back to the task at hand. He reached for the doorknob, took a deep breath and said a small prayer that his parents had not thought to wire his room with an alarm. He had heard it click earlier when his mother had left, but that hadn’t worried him. Simon had been able to override the lock by the time he was five. Of course, River had figured out how to override hers by two and a half, but who was counting?

Turning the doorknob silently, Simon cracked the door just a sliver and pressed his eye to the opening. Seeing no movement and hearing no one, Simon opened the door more fully and stepped cautiously into the cavernous hall. Glancing first left and then right, he saw a clear path and padded silently away from his room.

It was just a few steps to his sister’s room, but there was no guarantee she’d actually be there. Pressing an ear to the oak, Simon listened, his breath in his throat. Faintly he could hear her singing, “Two by two, hands of blue,” and Simon let out a quiet sigh of relief. Old habits did indeed die hard.

Working the lock on her door, Simon was inside in an instant. One of her curtains was open a crack, leaving a slice of moonlight over her bed. Simon waited by the door for his eyes to adjust. She wasn’t lying in bed and Simon scanned the rest of the room for her small form. When he caught sight of her on the far side of the room huddled into a corner, his breath caught in his throat. She hadn’t done that since her first few weeks on Serenity. She was relapsing and quickly and Simon knew now beyond a doubt, he had to get her out of here.

“River,” he whispered, going to her and reaching out a hand. He stopped short of actually touching her, not wanting to startle her. “River, can you hear me? It’s Simon.”

She continued to hum to herself, that eerie tune and then abruptly she stopped. She cocked her head to one side as if listening, and then slowly brought her eyes up. Staring at him from a faraway place, Simon could see her pupils bring him into focus. Her eyes were wide with fear and sadness. “Simon,” she whispered, sitting up a little straighter.

Nodding at her, he placed a hand on her knee and said, “Yes, mei mei, it’s me. I’m here.”

“Simon.” She said it louder this time and he could hear her voice begin to break with the sobs he knew she couldn’t hold back any longer. “Simon.” This last time it was more of a wail and Simon shushed her as he gathered her into his arms, holding her trembling form against his chest.

Simon felt so many things at that one moment, he had a hard time deciphering them all. Pain and sadness for his sister; desperation and anxiety for their situation; hope and longing for their new home; and anger and hatred for their father. He felt that last one most of all.

It wasn’t just the passing anger of adolescence that results from a scolding, this was white hot anger that boiled Simon’s blood. It made him think violent thoughts that shamed him and emboldened him simultaneously. It whispered to him, like a lover and said things that he wanted to hear; only what he wanted to hear. My father will pay. He deserves to die. All of this is his fault.

“Simon,” River whispered it again. She had wrapped her arms around his neck and held onto him fiercely as she cried. She looked up into his eyes and he tried to push the anger away as he met her gaze. He didn’t want her to think any of it was directed at her. “Simon, no. There’s no time. We just have to go.”

“I know, mei mei,” Simon said, resting his cheek on top of her head and kissing her scalp. “I know. We’re going to get out here.” Pulling back to look at her fully, he asked, “Can you walk?”

She nodded once and with a grace she had always possessed, quickly extricated herself from his embrace and stood at the ready. Simon hoisted himself off the floor and looked around the room for a weapon. Grabbing his hand, River pulled him toward the door, “We don’t need it. We’ll be fine.”

Simon wished he could share her confidence, but not having time to argue, he followed her to the door and back into the empty hall.