"Yeah," Trish nodded, taking Mitchell's arm. "That would be great, thank you."
The idea of a hot shower had never been more appealing to Trish. Maybe she'd get lucky and she'd drown in it, or she'd wake up and find out that everything - this, Henry, the island, the past few years was all a bad dream. She'd wake up in Seattle and then head off to work in the museum, and be surrounded by art. Art, art didn't betray you...with art you were safe.
"Why are we here? Is it punishment for something?"