Hasibe weighs her options here, after hearing that crash. She could stay away from him, as Ivan suggested, or she could make sure he doesn't go anywhere--an experience that would be worse for the general population. She stops in the kitchen and picks up a handful of salt, rolling it over her fingertips. When she reaches her bedroom door again, trails the salt across its threshold--there's a faint flare of something, like almost-smoke but not quite visible, but little else.

She can get past, but no one else can. She'll have to undo that when Ivan turns up. Hasi stays just past the doorway, watching him.

"Mitchell."