Leading Derrick to my house was like leading Miur's giant war horse, except instead of reins I had his hand holding the end of my tied apron strings as covertly as possible. I wouldn't have even noticed him doing so if I hadn't caught his hand moving in that one instant. We got some funny looks from the refugees, but otherwise they ignored us and returned back to whatever they were working on, whether it be repairing something, scavenging for food, or just sitting there and staring into space. I was glad that the last kind were rare. Work was often the best way to feel in control of one's life, as well as the best way to move up in the world. I would have been truly worried if more had been sitting around in defeat like that.