Sam was looking at Olivia as she slid her phone back in her pocket. Her anxiety had clearly risen steadily throughout the call. She stood from where she had been seated on the couch. Olivia just watched, waiting to see what Sam was going to do.
"That was Colonel O'Neill," she said.
"Yeah," Olivia answered even though it wasn't phrased as a question. She recalled his words, his concern, and silently cursed him for it. As if she wasn't already conflicted enough. Where before Sam had tipped her, if only just, now she simply didn't know what to think. Who should she believe?
All of this was making her head start to hurt.
"It was only a matter of time before they figured it out."
"You don't know for sure that they have," Olivia said. She didn't believe for a moment that that was the case, though. But she was terrified of doing the wrong thing, and wished fervently that she knew what the wrong thing was.
"You don't know the Colonel," Sam responded. She started towards the door.
"Wait," Olivia called after her. "What do you think you're doing?"
Sam turned, looking slightly confused. "I can't stay here."
"And what? I'm just supposed to sit here and watch you go off on your own?"
"This isn't your problem," Sam returned. "I'm sorry that I got you involved in the first place."
Olivia shook her head. Whatever she may believe, she certainly wasn't about to let Sam take off on her own. Not after what she had seen last night. "Well, I am involved now. So, you're stuck with me."
Sam saw how useless arguing would be. "Fine."