She reaches for Sadie’s papers—the forms that will allow her to pick up the medication in Karolina’s stead—and adds her signature to each one.

They’re ready to go before one o’clock. This still leaves them only four hours of daylight: Maeve wonders at the audacity of the plan, but they all seem galvanized. Giddy. Dan has a set of snowshoes for each of them and some overnighting equipment he’s dug out of storage: tarps and headlamps, a hatchet, fire starters. He’s also got a gun, a .44, which surprises Maeve. She watches him carefully loading it.

“I thought you weren’t worried,” she says.

At the sound of the barrel clicking into place, Sim lifts his head from his own packing.

“A gun’s nowhere near as useful as bear spray,” he says. His voice is calm. Casual, even. “I mean, if a bear is what you’re worried about. You know that.”

Dan just nods. There’s a pause, and then Sim goes at him again, harder this time. “So what do you need a gun for?”

“There’s a can of spray for each of us.” Dan sets the safety and slides the pistol into a holster at his hip. “I’d rather hold on to the gun myself than leave it here,” he says. “If it’s all the same to you.”

“It’s not the same to me at all. Is it the same to you, Maeve?”

But Maeve just turns away. The last thing they need now is a pissing contest.

Sim’s eyes steady on Dan. “Don’t forget you’re ex-military for a reason—”

Karo glances over, her face rigid, and signals to Sim to let it go.

Sadie is the first one ready. She sits by the door, impulsive-looking, on her pack, snow pants and parka on, hood pulled up, a ridge of dark fur framing her face. She has an air of the impostor about her, or the ingénue. Maeve thinks again how well she’d fit in, lining up in the audition hall: small and lithe, sharp-tongued and insecure. Cruising for a fight. Maeve doesn’t know whether to wish her good luck or good riddance.

Dan is assembling the last tool pack when Karo comes out of her office and catches his arm.

“Not everything. You need to leave two tarps behind and two cans of bear spray. And the extra flares.”

“You have your own toolbox—”

“I have a toolbox of my own, but I want a few extras. You can’t leave us up here high and dry.”

He stops moving, his hand curled around a flare.

“Best if you don’t go outside, Karo.”

He tucks the flare into an inner pocket of the backpack and cinches the bag tight, Karo’s hand still on his arm, her fingers digging into the plush of his jacket.

Sadie steps up, jittery with adrenaline.

“What if she has to? We can’t just take everything.”

Dan pauses, resentful that his authority is being questioned. He rolls his shoulder back, making it clear he’s trying hard not to turn to Sadie and put her in her place.