There wasn't anything or anyone behind the door to answer that question. Octavia had set aside her feelings of failure when it came to immediately reassuring Duke about what had happened, as well as the feelings of untamed hurt that had rolled in with getting shut out of the situation altogether (or feeling as if she had been, anyway), and had grabbed onto things she could actually do.

So she'd retreated all the way down the stairs, and back into the kitchen. Was rinsing off the knife that had started this whole ordeal, then washing her hands, thinking about where to find a first aid kit in the house. She was pretty sure she'd brought in one of the survival kits she'd made, once upon a time, but where it had ended up was a different question entirely.

She was listening for any noises from upstairs, but with the distance and the water, she wasn't expecting to be able to make out much.