Victra fiddles with her phone, staring at it, waiting for a response from someone, anyone. From Lincoln. She gets a few, a few reassuring answers, but nothing from Lincoln.

The food she had ordered before her return to normal arrives, but now she can't eat. Her stomach twists in knots as she waits for something, anything to say that she hasn't ruined one of the few good things she has in her life.

She's so absorbed in her phone that she doesn't look up when the diner door dings the arrival of a new customer.