"She's fine," Riley says, the words whipping out flat and harsh. "My girl's fine. She knows how to handle herself. But I'm gonna feel a lot better when I find her."

She moves in to poke through the toolbox, stirring the implements around a little. Decides on a wrench and a screwdriver; between them and her crowbar she should be pretty well able to handle a lot of the finicky bits involved in old, long-ruined buildings.