His silence makes her uneasy. She fumbles for the light switch, remembering where it is from instinct more than clear recollection.

The overheads snap on.

Athena’s eyes go very, very wide.

The muzzle of her weapon doesn’t dip. She doesn’t throw herself at him in a hug. Beyond the change in the way she looks at him—horror replacing the scowl—she doesn’t seem to react at all.

“What the fuck are you doing here.” Her voice also gives her away, dropping into soft panic.