This much Oleta knows: that they were painful and terrifying moments and they ultimately failed but they were free and that is most important. Her arms come to rest around Hester's waist, holding her close in a clumsy form of comfort that she's unused to giving.

"Hester," she murmurs as the other woman tries to compose herself, "listen to my voice." With that Oleta presses their foreheads together and murmurs soft affections, nothings, breathes. In out in out. Listen to your breathing, Hester. Can you hear your heart beating?

Can you see all you've done for the woman you love?

"I don't know what's happened either. There's no one here. No cameras, no eyes, no people."