Kate wipes the tears from her eyes, laughing quietly as she spies the golden eagle. No wonder Beaut had been acting so finicky; though, she wonders how she sensed the glorious mechanical bird.

"Hildegard."

Her focus dips back to Mireille, this time landing on her left wrist. The whole hand is missing. Her fingers gently touch her forearm, and everything that transpired the day she went missing rushes back to her.

"Weyland's safe."

Her voice is hurried. She doesn't know how long Mireille and Hildegard have been here by themselves, or how they ended up here, but if what Weyland said was true — their world has been ripped apart at the seams, and all has come to nothing — then Mireille must be worried about him.

"He managed t'make it t'the bar. With your hand."