She was there, in the doorway, a shape of deeper black cut into the darkness. "It's done."
I turned my head, closed my eyes, as if to return to an interrupted sleep. "I don't know what you mean."
There was rustling, and a moving of the bed, and then she was behind me, fingertips resting on my arm. "They won't bother us. They've left."
They've left. It could have meant so many things, none of them good for the others.
Her leg, bare at least to the thigh, hooked itself around mine. "This is what you wanted."
She wasn't wrong.