The first night in the compound passed in real sleep.
No one kept a full watch. Vale barred the door and then simply lay down near it with a blade within reach. The rest of us took the beds. The mattresses were firm and clean. The air carried no residual pressure and no sound of approaching boots. I slept harder than I had in months and woke only once to the feeling of Elizabeth's hand resting over the ordinary scar on my forearm, as if she still needed to confirm it was only skin.
Morning came with hot water and food that did not need to be rationed. We ate slowly. We checked wounds that were finally healing without interference. We spoke little. The silence inside the compound was still new enough that none of us wanted to break it too quickly.
