She's sitting leaning forward with her elbows resting on her knees, her fingers twining together, and has to turn her head practically over her shoulder to look up at him. Really look, just the way he's looking at her, a long hold.



"I'm not good at this," she says finally. "The hiding. One guy already found me, and he didn't -- he wasn't with any of the people I'm hiding from, he just wanted to help. But he found me, and that was months ago. I feel like maybe if anyone else was seriously, like seriously looking for me ... they'd have found me too, by now."

A beat. She's not looking at him anymore.

"But I don't know."