The safe house was silent, only the dripping of water in the corner broke the darkness. You took off your jacket, the fabric sticking with rain. Simon was already sitting there, his mask on the table, his face half in shadow.

"It was a close call out there" you said.

He didn't answer right away, instead taking a sip from his canteen. Then he looked at you, that hard look that went right through you.

"It doesn't matter if it was a close call. We're still alive."

He said it so simply that it seemed almost cold. But you knew: for him, this was the highest form of relief.