"I'm sorry, Henry." She touches his hand, but only briefly before looking away, a little ashamed to have brought it up, a little sad that it's still so present in her mind.

"I don't know," she admits at some length. "I can't go through a door, either. I hesitated this morning getting into the shower. I worried driving through the tunnel on Via Esperanza. Anything could be a portal. How do we know?"