[she leans in closer to the tablet during that pause, her ears swiveled towards the screen to pick up all the sound she can. She shudders—and compulsively shifts farther into the room she's in, away from the outside-facing wall.]

It's only for the night. ...Maybe they'll have gone, by morning. At any rate, it's good that the door's blocked. That's good.

[she sighs. She's no good at reassuring people.]

...Poor Alphonse was about ready to tear off looking for you, from the sound of it.