"Are you, though?" Sabine's smile breaks free at the edges for being teased by him, and her look borders on a mock-fondness, light amusement for staring straight in the face of his being here with her. With Jack, with them, together again. Or her, slipping into their them; a second layer of the many in her absence. Both are different, and both are true in their own ways.

Whether up or down, Kyle had still chosen close.
It said volumes about him, whether he knew it or not.

Sabine started them toward the next case. A selection of the celestials—The Star, The Moon, The Sun—done in golds and silvers, with brilliant citrines, gleaming moonstones, and burning fire opals. "And yet so much a smaller one than the mathematical probability of even finding ourselves all on this same planet at all."

Smaller yet, for her to find herself back in a body. Alive.
It that was what she could call this. She couldn't be sure.

Though she adds, matching the subdue of the seriousness in his last note. "All I've heard of the last months behind you all has been raising contentions and skirmishes between all three groups. "