Jordie has no intention of dying. But Spoon doesn't know what kind of darkness she's walking into. Suspects, maybe, but doesn't know.

If things were different, she might have told him. Might have asked for his help, even; he could have helped.

Things aren't different.

When the kiss breaks, both of their faces are wet. Jordie whispers "Goodbye" into the curve of his ear, drops to the floor, bends to scoop up her box, and is gone.

The sound of running feet fades down the corridor outside.