Eleven

Eleven sniffles back the tears trying so desperately to prick at her eyes. Steve's a welcome sight, the familiarity of his voice setting her shoulders at ease, just a little. She takes her phone from him when he offers it.

"I know," she says, both to his clarification, and to his explanation. "Hi, Steve." She waves her phone weakly with one hand. "Thanks." She debates asking if he can teach her how to find the number for the Home, but she's still too frustrated to.