"I'll be fine," Serena said quietly, not taking him up on the blanket or sleeping bag. She had slept in worse conditions than this, and she wasn't sure why, but the idea of taking charity from this man made her uneasy. She wanted to be independent, she wanted to be the kind of girl who just... went through life taking care of herself and therefore not feeling guilty if other people went out of their way to help her make it through.
She found a cleaned-off spot where she could curl up on a palette that had once held cases of something. Sodas, maybe. The cardboard was soft enough to act as a decent little mattress and Serena didn't undress at all, not even her boots. Especially her boots; you never knew when you'd be made to run and you didn't want to have to do it barefoot. She pulled her legs against her chest, and her tire iron was settled next to her side, the Bowie knife secured under her pillow for easy access.