It was easy to feel alone in a crowd. Especially all the underwear models who had a shared history and homeland, like they did in this hellhole. But he was clearly trying to be nice, so Sam swallowed the thought. “Sam,” she said instead. “Resident dumpster fire.”

She started to reach out, to offer her hand for a shake, but realized it was shimmering with broken glass. So it turned into an uncomfortable wave instead. Better to look weird than to risk getting her shitty blood on a poor newbie. Especially one who didn’t seem to totally suck.

“And if this place sounds like your everyday life, then you must come from one hell of a world.”

A pause.

“Oh. Have you gotten The Talk yet?” She used airquotes, even though she hated airquotes. “Multiverse and Einstein-Rosen bridges and all that?”