She fell into step beside him.
They ran the remaining rotation together.
At the east wall — the section she'd claimed as her own from the first week, the one he'd surveyed before he could acknowledge why — she stopped.
"Silo," she said.
"Yes."
"After," she said. "When this is done." She didn't define what *after* meant — she didn't need to. "Can we—" She stopped. Reorganized. "I want to tell you something about where I came from. What happened before Pell." A pause. "I've been waiting for a time that wasn't the middle of something."
He looked at her.
"After," he said.
"After," she confirmed.
She held his gaze with the specific directness that had been the thing from the gate — the thing he'd tried to call professional and couldn't anymore — and he looked back with the specific ful
