"You have to die eventually," she says with attempted equanimity, but there's something tight around her eyes belying her real feelings. "It wasn't an unlikely outcome."

But it sounds like she hadn't. Like the Machine took care of her. Root reaches up and settles her own gloved hands on top of Shaw's on her shoulders, gently prompting without pressing her.

"Think we could catch up out of the wind? I don't like to keep Bear out here too long, and it's been a while already." Root will put up with whatever conditions she reasonably has to, but expecting that of their loving, loyal dog is another story.