The air in the hallway was clearer and cooler than that of the room behind them, and Soma took deep, instinctive breaths. Here the scent of flesh wasn't overpowering as much as it was simply a little strong, despite Meche's arms around hers, and as she breathed, reason slowly began to return. Soon she stopped struggling altogether, although there was still faint hostility in her eyes.

There wasn't reason enough for her to feel anything but hatred--not yet--but at least that anger was under control now. There was too much to process to consider regret or guilt; that might return in the morning, when she had time to think everything over. For now, she only took another deep breath, ignoring the crackle of the intercom.

When she spoke again, it was a little closer to her usual flat tone of voice, though the undercurrent of anger was still barely present. "Let me go."