More than anything

Regan smiles, warm and a little relieved.

"You're welcome," she answers.

It's easy enough to lead him back to the bakery. She knows the way almost by heart, now, just by sheer virtue of how often she's gone out with glue and a stapler. The signs are more thickly placed the closer they get, until they come upon it. There are plenty of people there. Anne, Greta, and Saoirse, of course, and other people have been coming and going. There's even a tall, slender redhead there, holding a jug of milk. The way she nods at Martin, Regan thinks they know each other.