Maeve glances at Sadie, trying to gauge whether she also finds this strange—but Sadie just looks on, impassive, shifting the papers in her hands.

“I’m upset about Anna too—” Maeve is not sure what else to say.

“Yes.” Karo squeezes the arm of the couch with taut fingers.

“But I think we need to stay focused, even us, staying here. Maybe especially because we’re staying here. You don’t seem like yourself, Karo. Maybe a cup of sweet tea or a shot of something—”

“Oh, not you too with the booze.” Karo pushes rigidly to her feet again. “You mean this.” Her voice drops to a harsh whisper, as though there might be someone outside the door, listening. She holds out her hands, which tremble in the air.

Maeve sees suddenly how pronounced it is. How much, in fact, Karo has been keeping it under control.

Karo turns her hands over, watching them shake, then lets her arms drop. She looks over to Sadie, who finally steps out from behind the desk.

“She has a condition. That’s why I’m really going down to the village—for help.”

Karo scowls at the word.

“She’s going for drugs. I control it with medication. It’s not usually a problem. I mean, you see that—you would never have guessed before today.” She’s unused to confidences, uncomfortable. “I missed a delivery, remember? The day before the avalanche. But—”

“What sort of condition?” It’s a dumb question. Maeve is struggling to catch up.

“An illness,” Sadie says, matter-of-fact. “Kind of like Parkinson’s. Most people aren’t diagnosed until they’re older.”

She takes Karolina’s arm and leads her around to the big chair behind the desk, modestly assisting. Sadie’s entire role here rapidly shifts in Maeve’s mind: she thinks back to when she first saw the tremble in Karo’s fingers. Yesterday?

“And the medication—” she begins.

Karolina eases herself down into the chair.

“For the first day or so, I didn’t worry too much. I tried just stretching out the time between doses. But it’s sensitive stuff. Normally I take it every four hours, day and night.”

“Do you have any left at all?”

“No, not anymore.”

“Does Dan know?”

“No one knows.”

Maeve blanches. She looks at Sadie again, but the girl won’t meet her gaze. Instead, she finishes sorting through her papers.

“I don’t think—”

“If they knew, they would look at me differently. I manage it extremely well—”

“But this is an emergency.”

“I won’t die from it. It’s not an illness that kills you. Not quickly like that. It’s just—without the drugs—” She stops, at a loss.

Maeve turns to Sadie, responsibility nagging at her.

“And you’re comfortable with this? With Dan?”

A flash of vulnerability passes over Sadie’s face—grim, frightened. Then it’s gone.

But Karo slams a tight fist against the desk.

“Dan is a professional. A veteran! With on-the-ground experience. And they’ll be safer all together than if two of them go alone.” She takes a breath, trying to calm herself down. “I’m asking you not to say anything. Not a word. Just let them go, do you understand? The faster we get a rescue team up here, the better.”