Penelope crossed the hall and knocked on 2502 with her hip, because both hands were full.
Killian opened the door slowly. He had changed out of the wet coat but not much else. His hair stuck up on one side, his eyes were bloodshot, and he held the doorframe the way a man holds a railing on a moving ship.
"I said I'd send something," Penelope said. "I decided it was faster to bring it."
"You didn't have to."
"I know." She stepped past him before he could argue. The apartment was dark except for a single battery lantern turned down low on the kitchen counter. She set a ceramic flask beside it and a plate of cold rice and dried fruit next to the flask. "Sit."
He sat on the edge of the couch, mostly because his knees had made the decision. Penelope poured the water into a cup. It was clear and faintly luminous, and it caught the lantern light and held it a second too long.
"All of it," she said. "Not sips."
