Laurel rolled down her window, letting the wind caress her face as Chelsea drove through the empty, darkened streets. For nearly half an hour Chelsea said nothing further about their short bout in the apartment or her ill-timed appearance, and Laurel appreciated the effort her friend must have put into keeping quiet. Silence certainly did not come naturally to Chelsea. She was probably dying to rehash their visit with Yuki, but all Laurel wanted to do was force it to the back of her mind and pretend it had never happened.

“Hey, is that…”

Chelsea was already pulling over when Laurel realised that the tall guy walking down the side of the road, silhouetted by the streetlight, was David. His eyes were wary as the headlights flashed across them, but recognition — and relief — dawned as Chelsea pulled her mother’s car alongside him.

“Where were you?” Chelsea demanded when David crouched to peer through the passenger window. “I drove all over the place.”

David studied the ground. “I stayed out of sight,” he admitted. “I didn’t want to be found.”

Chelsea glanced over her shoulder in the direction he had been walking. Towards the apartment. “Where are you going?”

“Back,” David growled. “To make things right.”

“She’s doing OK,” Chelsea said, her eyes serious.

“But I put her in there.”

“She’s figured the circle out,” Chelsea insisted. “It’s not like it was. She’s not hurting herself anymore. She just sits there. Well, sits and talks,” she added.

But David was shaking his head. “I’ve been running away from my part in this and I’m done. I’m going back to make sure everything stays humane. Or, you know, whatever the plant equivalent is.”

“Tamani said he would make sure she was safe,” Laurel said.

“But his — and Shar’s — definition of safe may not quite match up with mine. Ours.” He looked between them. “We put her there. All of us. And I still think it was the right decision, but if it wasn’t… I don’t want to stand by and let it get worse.”