"I'm Caroline," she repeated, then shook her head, because he didn't actually mean who are you. He meant where am I and what is going on. So she answered that instead. "You're at the Madonna Inn. I'm a ...guest? I guess we're guests." Prisoners, while accurate, seemed like the wrong thing to say to a freaked out guy covered in giant blood. "It's...complicated. Come sit down and I'll try to explain."

She ignored his attempts to push her off, because most people didn't know what was good for them, especially when they were beat to hell, like he said. "So you're right, I'm not a spiritual anything. I'm a college student. Drama. We have someone hang out here on arrival days. You're kind of late, you know?"