Beside her, Sadie plays with Justin’s camera. She pokes at him, teasing: It was just sitting under the chair where he’d left it, she says. After all that fuss. Why can’t men ever find things?

“Say cheese!” She spins toward Anna. “It’s a snow-day miracle!”

But Sadie was warm and dry by the fire all afternoon. The rest of them aren’t in the mood for games.

Or, not by the fire after all—but skulking around in the gallery and who knows where else. Maeve checks for the bear claw in her hip pocket. Still there. She wonders now if it could have been Sadie who snuck into her room? To what end?

And the gallery key—is it her own, given to her, or did she take it from the desk? Maeve shakes her head; she’s starting to sound paranoid even to herself. Maybe Sadie is just on the hook to clean the space now that the housekeepers are no longer here. Another drudgery job inflicted on her by Karo.

But that wouldn’t explain what she was doing down in the spa, peering through doorways. There’s still no easy answer for that.

“Animals do weird things after—” Dan starts, but he falters, trying to find the right word. Maeve brings her attention back to the group: Not “disaster.” Don’t start using words like that. “After an event like this,” he says finally.

“Nature turns to chaos,” Sim says, looking at Anna. The theme of her project, her werewolf film. He goes to refill his mug but finds the bottle empty and gets up to retrieve a new one.

“This isn’t chaos. It’s predictable.” Justin slings his legs over the arm of his chair and settles in. “My first job, like, as an intern? Climatology beat—”

“You mean weather boy,” Anna says.

More sniping. Maeve reaches for the radio to try it herself, but her fingertips barely graze the handle before Karo skims it with her foot, moving it deftly under her own chair.

“Leave it alone.” She doesn’t even turn to look at Maeve as she speaks.

Verboten. Sim mouths the word from where he’s standing with the new bottle, behind Anna’s chair. Maeve just nods, confused.

“I mean, they were talking about this kind of extreme weather long before my time. Way long. Thirty years ago, easy,” Justin says. “When you think of it that way, nothing the animals might do feels weird—”

“Even sneaking down the mountain, right, Maeve?” Dan stumbles a little as he rises to his feet.

She doesn’t know why he’s singling her out. Because she insisted on talking about the bear outside her studio? Because she didn’t give him the reaction he wanted when he surprised her there, letting himself in with his own key? She wonders now what his expectation had been.