When Anne opens the door, Jack is curled up on the couch, his back facing the door. Around the apartment is evidence of his poor mood: a half-eaten sandwich on the kitchen counter, a notebook thrown to the floor, his cell phone left on the coffee table close at hand.

As the door closes Jack exhales. He doesn't move to look at her or sit up, but some of the tension in his shoulders softens. Whatever is going to happen now, he's glad that Anne came back. He's glad that she's safe.

"I'll need to send Greta an apology in the morning," he says, echoing Anne's soft tone. "I left her a message. It wasn't much." He curls in a little, readjusting his arm under his head. It had been a mistake, leaving that voicemail for Greta at such a late hour, when he was so frustrated. He does still believe what he'd told Greta- it's stupid to make a deal with Sweeney, and being friends with the demi-god doesn't make any sense to him, but he owes it to Anne to get along with her.