The fire popped in the hearth, a sharp break in the quiet. Sabine kept her focus on Kara like she was willing her to keep talking. Kara did not. The silence settled again, not quite comfortable, not quite hostile, but full enough that I knew it wouldn’t last long.
She was winding up for something. I could feel it.
Sabine's eyes narrowed slightly before she spoke. “So you’ve stolen my phone.”
Kara didn’t hesitate. “No SIM, no battery, no signal. You can’t use your phone or your laptop.”
Her chin lifted. “Excuse me?”
“They stay locked down," Kara said, her tone flat. “Anything with a signal can be traced. Even if it’s off, even if you think it’s secure. We don’t take that risk.”
“That’s ridiculous. I need to—”
“You need to stay alive,” she cut in. “Your phone, your laptop, anything connected to a network is a doorway for someone to find you. For the duration, all personal devices stay locked away.”
Sabine pressed her lips together, then let out a slow breath. “So you’re cutting me off from the outside world. Completely.” She said it like a challenge, chin up, shoulders squared. Testing whether Kara would give in.
Kara didn’t answer right away, which told me she was giving Sabine room to back down. She didn’t.
Her gaze shifted between us, sharp and direct. “Fine. Then you can at least tell me who these ‘others’ are that you keep talking about. You’ve already said they’re coming here, into my space. I have a right to know who they are.”
Kara’s posture didn’t change, but the weight in the room shifted. “Need-to-know.”
Her jaw tightened. “This is my life you’re talking about, not a classified operation. If you’re expecting me to just sit here and trust you while strangers show up at the door, you’re out of your mind.”
She shook her head once, the movement quick, and continued. “You brought me here, you’ve taken my things, you won’t tell me who’s coming next, and you think that’s supposed to make me feel safe?”
Her voice rose a fraction with each word, enough to echo against the stone walls. Then she stopped, breathing through her nose like she was reining herself in.
“And,” she added, quieter but no less firm, “I’m hungry.”
I let out a quiet chuckle, and she narrowed her eyes like she wasn’t sure if I was laughing at her or with her. She gave me a small pout that didn’t quite hide the edge in her expression.
“Hang on,” I said, pushing up from the couch. “I’ll see what I can find.”
The kitchen was dark except for a single under-cabinet light. I opened two cupboards and found little more than coffee, canned soup, and a few half-empty boxes. A packet of saltine crackers sat in the corner, plastic still sealed. Not exactly dinner, but it would have to do until the others showed.
When I came back, Sabine was alone, watching the fire with her hands twisted together in her lap. I held out the packet. Our fingers brushed as she took it, and for a second neither of us moved.
“I’m not trying to be difficult,” she said, her voice quieter now. “This is just… a lot.”
I gave her hand a light squeeze before I sat back near her feet. “I get it. And I know it probably feels like we’re cutting you off on purpose. But phones aren’t just GPS trackers. They can be microphones, too. Locking everything down is for your safety, not control.”
Her gaze flicked up to mine, searching.
“As for the others,” I went on, “they’re good people. They’ll have your back the same way Kara and I do.” I leaned back slightly. “And they’re bringing groceries.”
That earned me a faint huff of air that wasn’t quite a laugh.
“You trust them?” she asked.
“With my life.”
She gave a flat smile. “Oh, good. Because I guess that’s what I’ve got at stake here too… my life.” Her voice caught just enough to betray how close she was to breaking.
She wrestled with the plastic on the cracker packet. I reached out a hand. “Here.”
She looked at it for a beat, the corner of her mouth threatening a smile before she shook her head. “No thanks. I don’t need security to open my crackers too.”
