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“I wish we had blankets.” She collapsed and shuffled into a better position. “Maybe we should wrap ourselves in tinfoil from the kitchen. Make a row of human burritos.”

I double-stacked my mats close to hers, leaving a big enough gap that she wouldn’t feel crowded. “It’s not the worst idea.”

“Oh!” Ava said, resting her mat against the bookcase. “You’ve just reminded me of something.” Before I could ask what she meant, she’d already made it halfway to the door. “Back in a minute.”

“Be careful,” Kirby called out.

Rubber squeaked on linoleum as her footsteps faded down the hall.

I knelt on my mat and dragged a yellow cushion over to use as a pillow. With a glance at the door, I thought about going after her, but it would only leave Kirby on her own.

Kirby shifted onto her side, propping herself on one elbow. Chin in hand, her eyes flicked from me to the door and back again, her mouth quirking.

“Stop it,” I said.

She snorted. “Relax. I’m just observing.”

I fell onto my back and sighed, draping my arms over my forehead. “And?”

“Someone caught your eye.”

“Couldn’t help it. The purple hair’s hard to miss.”

Kirby let out a crack of laughter. In another room, a door closed, followed by the rustle of plastic or paper. More footsteps came. Ava moved as if she knew exactly what she was searching for—and where to look.

“Not me,” she said. “You’re not my type. Wrong equipment and all.”

“Ah. My loss.”

“Sure.”

The smile in her voice encouraged one from me. I lowered my hands to my stomach and stared at the pastel sky painted on the ceiling, where a cartoon sun and rainbow peeked between fluffy white clouds.

“Fine,” I said. “I noticed her. She’s capable and level-headed, and she came up with the idea for this place.”

Kirby’s eyes glinted with humour. “That’s what got your attention, huh?”

More footsteps squeaked from somewhere out in the corridor. “We just met,” I said, tapping my fingers against my stomach.

“What does that have to do with anything?”

“We’re fighting for our lives.” I linked my hands to keep them still. “All I’m focused on is getting the two of you where you’re going. I don’t need any extra complications on top of what we’re already dealing with.”

“Then what happens to you?”

I took in the painted ceiling again, picking out the birds hidden amongst the clouds. “I’m gone.”

“Seriously?”

“What’s the other option? Join your family? Hers? We don’t even know each other.” We’d been thrown together by circumstances, nothing more. “As soon as I know you’re both safe, I’ll head home and see if there’s anything left there for me.”

I had an aunt and uncle on my dad’s side of the family in Victoria. A couple of cousins, too—but I hadn’t seen any of them in years, and I had no way of knowing if they were alive. Adelaide was my only real option, even if the thought of walking into an empty home caused an ache in my chest.

A day ago, it was all I’d wanted. Familiar surroundings. Comfort. A place to recover from all the shit I’d been through. Now? I didn’t know anymore.

Silence fell between us, broken only by Ava’s movements throughout the building. There was another closing door, and more of that strange crinkling. She’d be back any minute.

“Do me a favour,” Kirby said. “Don’t decide what you’re doing until we get to my parents’ house. Let me find out if they’re okay first.” Her voice cracked, and she paused before continuing. “If they’re not, I’ll need to figure out where to go next, and maybe, just maybe, you’ll end up stuck with me.”