At his words, Reinette remained where she was near the window. There was little question that she would still be there. But she also knew what it meant to walk from a room and return only moments later to feel a presence gone. Jack knew as well, she thought. And though lightly said the words still had weight.

So she stood there, even if he could not see. It was not waiting, Reinette told herself. Rather a point made.

After some time she moved to the small but serviceable bathroom that would serve as her own. There was nothing about it that might make it unique. Truly the only room in the home that seemed to be so. But it had hot water and soap and towels. And afterward a robe.

And in between she was able to lose herself to the quiet and the heat. She stayed until the cold forced her away.

Reinette was able to find a small brush that did well enough, and she returned to the long sofa to brush her hair dry. She chose a book afterward with genuine intent, but as she settled back onto the long, low pillows it occurred to her she was still tired. The night before there had still been concern for Jack, as well as the quiet unfamiliarity of a bed that was not her own. The past three days felt a great deal longer.

So that like Jack before her she fell asleep, curled against the pillows with the book still resting in her lap.