She walks in. I follow a few steps behind, giving her space while taking in her new room myself.
Gray furnishings. A wide bed. A desk set against the far wall. A computer with a chair. Her tablet. Her baggage. And some medical equipment I recognize from the MedBay.
Em turns slowly, eyes moving from corner to corner.
Stan points at the corner desk with the equipment connected to it. “You’re probably wondering about all that.”
She looks back at him, waiting.
“Idris sent a jet and a van ahead,” Stan explains. “Had some ofyour things brought over from the ship ASAP, way before we even boarded the private jet. Just in case, I guess. He figured you might want the option.”
I study her face as she absorbs all that. Her glasses slide a tad down the bridge of her nose. I want to fix it for her, but she reaches for it and does it herself.
Stan can’t keep the quiet going for long. “By the way, Em, I volunteer as a guinea pig again. Or your research assistant.” He ticks them off finger by finger. “Coffee runner. Moral support. Whatever you want.”
“I volunteer too,” I add.
They both look at me. I hold Em’s wide eyes.
“What you were working on, Em… It’ll change the world.” I loosen my arms, almost reaching a hand out to her. But I stop myself. “You don’t owe anyone anything. You can take your time. Or never touch the stuff again.”
Stan nods, grin back on. “If you want it gone, we’ll make it disappear.”
Her shoulders rise with an inhale, then go down as she lets the breath out. “Noted,” she says. “If you don’t mind, I’d like some time to settle in.”
“Take all the time you want, Em.” Stan starts heading to the door. I’m right behind him. “Kitchen’s always open, okay? There’s even sushi in the fridge.”
I nudge him with an elbow. An annoyed snarl almost slips past my lips.
“Snacks,” he corrects smoothly. “All kinds ofsnacks. Fridge, pantry, counters.”
Glancing at Em, it doesn’t look like she heard us anyway. Her eyes are focused on the desk. Her mouth’s a small frown.
“We’ll give you space,” I say, pushing Stan out before he saysanything else.
“Oh, wait!” Stan digs into his back pocket and pulls out his flip phone.
He hands it to her. Her fingers close around it automatically. She looks down at the phone like she’s not sure what to do with it.
“You don’t have to use it,” Stan says quickly. “I just—” He shrugs. “Sometimes it helps to know you can reach someone. My other phone number’s saved in there.”
She nods, staring up at him with her big brown eyes. “Okay.”
“Yeah, okay.” Stan smiles, sounding relieved.
Then he gives her a little bow while I shove him out the door. “She asked for space, Stan.”
“Welcome home, Em!” he shouts that last bit before I pull her door closed.
“Stan,” I hiss out his name, while I follow him down the hall.
He glances back. “What, babe?”
“She can’t have raw fish,” I remind him, voice grave. “Remember what Idris told us?”
“Oh, right.” His lips curve up. “Perfect. More for us, then.”
“That’s not what I meant.”
