By the time she returns, he's already checked everything he needs to check and found every avenue of potential answers to be rather unsatisfying. Of course, he was aware that other people who showed up in Sweetwater like him, out of place and out of time, are housed together with people they don't know. Hasn't met anyone whose pretend spouse showed up many weeks later though. Nor has anyone mentioned that their photographs and wardrobes magically changed.

But he's managed to ascertain that she's supposed to be in the house, with him. And this is all her stuff. And he's already removed some of the booby traps so she won't get hurt, although he isn't taking all of them down. He might be newly married but he's not stupid. He'll just tell her about the ones he left up and expect her to be careful.

He's standing silently at the top of the stairs, pillow clutched under his arm, watching her inspecting the inexplicable photo of them. Just one of several disconcerting photos sprinkled around the house.

"You can have the bedroom." His voice sounds a little haunted, a little empty as it rolls lowly down the stairs. "I'll be on the couch."