Takeout from a restaurant she’d mentioned once.

A woman in her dress, laughing.

She was still standing there twenty minutes later when Harrison came up the stairs behind her, having parked the car.

“Well?” he said.

“I don’t want it,” Maya said.

He waited.

“I fought for fourteen months for this and I don’t want to live in it, and I’ve been standing here trying to decide whether that means they won.”

Harrison looked around the room for a while.