Her finger trailed along the edge of the wine glass as she stared off into the distance, too exhausted to do anything more than stare, breathe, and occasionally lift the glass. It was quiet at the grill, which was no great surprise, given the events of the previous days. With good reason, it seemed a significant part of the town had sequestered themselves in their homes, but Charlotte, who had pushed off a grocery trip until the day after Halloween, found herself with mostly bare cabinets, and no energy to cook. Instead of home-cooked, tonight it would be to-go orders eaten out of plastic containers on their living room couch. She’d just raised her glass to her lips when she heard the barstool beside her creak, and though every neuron fired at once, telling her to run, she found herself calmly looking over at her new neighbor at the bar, a welcoming smile on her lips. “It’s nice to see someone else in here. I was starting to feel like an asshole, making all these people work when there’s some criminal on the loose. At least if they get us in here, it’ll be a somewhat classy affair.” Oops- too casual, she thought, kicking herself. Few people wanted casual small talk during tragedy, and even fewer wanted jokes at tragedy’s expense. “I just mean we’re probably safe in here,” she said again, her easy-breezy facade somewhat cracked, but still inappropriately cheery. “Can't stay cooped up forever, anyway."