The second his face went quiet, she knew. She knew that expression, had worn it far too long, and she knew it fit Aidan very poorly. Not her Aidan. Not the one who felt more deeply than anyone else she'd known - even V. Even V. She waited, all the same, distantly finding mirthless amusement in the fact that she'd find even a scrap of hope here in this lead-filled moment. And then --
... She nodded. This time, when her face smoothed and her body stilled, it wasn't a mask. She nodded again, and kept doing it as she put one foot behind herself, then the other. When she'd left the kitchen tile and carpet was under her feet again, she opened her mouth and said the only thing left.
"Okay."
Evey didn't look hurt anymore. She didn't feel hurt anymore. She didn't even feel relief. Evey was. And that was all. She unhurriedly turned toward what she believed to be the door in this large place. If it wasn't the door, she'd try the next one. Or the next one after that.