Hopefully that's a good sign, and not one that things went terribly wrong. She stretches as she gets out of the car, then winces at the protestations of sore muscles.

A motorcycle roars into the lot and comes to a halt, and Helena dismounts in a swirl of black and purple before striding over to them. Sharon recognizes the bravado in her movements, the way she hides her aches and hurts with a slightly stiff gait. It's familiar.

"Dinah," says the other woman as she comes up. She glances at the building, looking strangely reluctant. "...You should go check in on her."