The neighborhood coordinator made Eli help move a cupboard before she would discuss the evacuation.
It stood across the room where residents were trying to set up a temporary charging point. Two drawers had jammed during the trial morning’s hurried move. She had one shoulder beneath its corner when he arrived, and she did not put it down merely because the famous hunter stood at her door.
“Other end,” she said.
He took it.
They shifted the cupboard a hand’s breadth at a time, careful of the broken foot. Behind it lay a crushed pencil, a child’s wooden wheel, and the narrow strip of floor the new cable needed. Eli picked the small things up while the coordinator tested the charging shelf.
Only when the cupboard was seated did she ask what he wanted.
“To understand what happened when the barrier dropped.”
“We left.”
