The door’s unlocked, which is good; Summer slips into the quartet’s flat silently. “Mordred?” Faintly now, she can hear water running, and she follows it to the bathroom. “Mordred?” Heedlessly, she pushes that door open. “Hey. What’s going on?”

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     The young soldiers head snapped up from his knees, startled by the sudden intrusion, quickly wiping his eyes – although he doubted it would matter. No one could tell the difference between water and tears. “N-nothing, why?”

She puts her hands on her hips. “Nobody sits on the floor of the shower like that unless something’s wrong.” Glancing around, she picks up a towel and holds it out. “Come on.”