(for Charles, in arrivals_only)
Camilla had looked everywhere. It wasn't a very large room, as hotel rooms went, and while she didn't keep it scrupulously tidy, there just weren't very many places she could have lost a pair of pajamas. She'd looked to make sure they hadn't gotten caught up in the sheets and hidden that way. She'd looked behind the washers and dryers in the laundry room to make sure they hadn't fallen behind a machine while she transferred things from washer to dryer. She'd looked under the bed and in the drawers and everywhere she could think to look.
They were the only thing of Henry's that she had in this place. To have lost them -- she couldn't bear the thought of it.
She had kept her door locked, and as far as she knew the only person to come in had been Charles, except for the time she'd asked Horace to come in and fry her television set into a state of inoperability, and she'd been talking to Horace the whole time. Yet Camilla knew there were things afoot in the airport, suspicious things. That was the whole reason she'd wanted her television broken in the first place. She knew the airport's residents were under surveillance. She knew there were people in this place she didn't trust.
She worried about it to the point where she couldn't sleep. She needed to talk to the one person she thought she could trust.
"Charles? Are you still awake?" She nudged him.