“Wait here.”

“What?” Tonia replied, but Maggie had already dashed out of the room. Tonia perched on the edge of Maggie’s lacy bedspread and pursed her lips.

“Here,” Maggie said upon returning. She took a kitchen knife out from the waistband of her jeans and offered it, handle first, to Tonia.

“What’s that for?!”

“Just tuck it into your jeans like this,” Maggie whispered loudly. “Don’t look at me like that! You’ve seen the news—it’s dangerous out there!”

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“Isn’t it also dangerous to have a sharp blade just hanging out near your special place?” Tonia raised her eyebrows. “Look, I’ll put it here in between my jeans and my belt. Feels a bit safer.”

“Suit yourself,” Maggie tapped the handle of the three-inch paring knife tucked against her hip. “All right,” she said into a small shoulder bag. “Phone, purse, torch, first-aid kit, tissues… anything else we might need?”

“You are such a mum right now. Let me guess - you have some snacks in there too?”

“Just a couple of cereal bars, do you think that’s enough?”

“Uh. Sure.”

“Let’s go, then,” Maggie picked up the hand-written note and placed it prominently on her bed. She smoothed out the duvet to eradicate the dip left from Tonia’s seat.

Without looking back a second time, Maggie left her bedroom, with Tonia closely behind.