“Thanks for covering the room. I… seem to have lost my wallet.” Claire says, forcing a feeble laugh. You could only afford the one room, but it’s better than nothing. The two of you sit on one of the beds in the motel room, tense and discombobulated after the harrowing events of the night. She draws her knees to her chest, as if holding herself tight to stop from shaking. Her damp hair falls over her shoulders, scrapes and bruises visible on her legs, the two of you wearing matching fluffy robes you’d found in the bathroom.

Leon emerges from the shower wearing severely oversized and mismatched clothes from the lost and found. He holds out a bundle of gauze apologetically. “Can anyone help me with my shoulder?”