In a studio apartment on the east side of the city Kaiden used to call home before the Dungeon Master business happened, Sarah sat cross-legged on her bed with a jar of Nutella wedged between her thighs, watching the news refuse to say anything new for the fourth hour running.
The spoon had stopped traveling a while ago. It stood planted in the jar like a flag while the feeds cycled the same three photographs: gray sedans arriving at the Eclipse checkpoint, gray sedans leaving the Eclipse checkpoint, and a federal seal with no statement under it.
Two federal teams had gone through her favorite person's front gate in one week.
Sarah dug the spoon out and loaded it properly, because the conversation ahead would need fuel, and opened the group line.
It connected mid-scream.
"-AND ANOTHER SIX SEDANS' WORTH OF SUITS CAN JUST SHOW UP TOMORROW, apparently, because there's no rule against it!" Leia was pacing; her floorboards gave her away.
