"Oh, until about five minutes ago?" Greta suggests, with a thin, strained attempt at levity. She doesn't really feel like laughing, at the situation or at herself. Nor does she have the slightest idea what to do about it. She doesn't have a rowboat she can hop into; they can't very well search the whole bloody ocean.

She looks up at him, brow furrowed. "She wouldn't have left. She promised, and I believe her." It's not much comfort, but she still clings to it. She can't believe Saoirse's abandoned them on purpose. But that leaves the troubling question of what could be keeping her.