"Like," she gestures with her cigarette, trailing smoke. "Vents, ducts, places where pipes and wiring didn't get put together as neat as it coulda an' you got gaps. Biggest ones I've found only fit two people, if neither's a claustrophobe. Still useful."

Saturday broods for a moment at his mention of the nanochain, trying not to feel it wrapped around her spine. She knows that she technically can't, but she can, every moment she isn't actively making herself not think about it. Like when Maggie was missing.

"Fucking nanochains. They've gotta be Stuff or somethin', they work too well an' on everyone, even people who're real weird physically."