Nouresh pursed her lips. “She’s chalking some of what I said up to a concussion. To be fair, I said most of it when I was barely conscious …” She sighed. “But it hasn’t escaped her notice that her beloved grandmother has many more scars and significantly longer hair.”

“Are you going to tell her?”

“Eventually,” Nouresh said. “She deserves that. Ursula does as well.”

Ava sat in the chair by the bed. It was comfortingly warm; Farah must have been sitting there. “Captain Nouresh,” she started.

The older woman raised a hand. “You carried me through a collapsing marejii, I think you’ve earned the right to call me Uzmala.”

Ava nodded. “Uzmala. Do you remember what happened to Jules?”

Uzmala sighed. “I know they saved my life. I know they pulled me through that door. It gets hazy after that. Farah told me that the two of us emerged alone.”

Ava chewed on her lip. “Jules stayed behind. They held the door. I think they fought the drones.”

“A good place to make a stand,” Uzmala mused. “Those bulkhead doors are narrow, and they would have had to come through one at a time. Someone handy with a sword could hold off a horde for quite a while.”

Ava’s stomach roiled. She’d forced herself to go back to her own apartment the night before, to eat and to gather the things she’d thought she needed. Her meal sat uneasily in her stomach now, and she had to swallow a couple times before she could speak the question she’d come here to ask: “I don’t suppose you still have your coat, do you?”

Uzmala smiled at her. “They bagged all my belongings and left them in the closet in the corner. What you’re looking for should be in there.”

Ava got up, pulled the red plastic bag from the closet, and tore it open with shaking fingers, even though she could already feel the FINNA’s bulky shape through the thin plastic. Ava only had dim memories of running through the last maskhål, but she clearly remembered slipping the FINNA into the wide pocket of Uzmala’s red coat, worried that it would slip from her sweaty hands. Uzmala had still been wearing the coat when the ambulance crew strapped her to the stretcher, and Ava had been hustled off to the break room.

The coat was stiff with dried blood, but she was able to maneuver the FINNA out of the pocket. She carefully put the bag back in the closet and then sat back down by Uzmala’s bedside.

“Did I mention that I quit my job?” Ava said faintly.

“Good for you,” the older woman replied. “I might be biased because I was dying at the time, but that store seemed like a depressing place to spend your hours.”