Izzy took a deep breath, then reached slowly into her pocket and pulled out her phone. She turned it on, using the short time it took to shove the sandwich fixings back in the bag. If nothing else, at the very least, she needed someone as levelheaded as Trevor. Though, she would certainly have a fair bit of explaining to do. 
	Ignoring any messages or missed calls she may have gotten, she held the phone up. Lacking service in the remains of the basement, she cautiously checked the intensity of the sun beyond the door above her. Finding what looked like the old kitchen relatively shady, she jumped up onto the main floor, careful to avoid any rays of sunlight filtering in between the boards.
	Once her phone showed she had service, she skipped texting and dialed Trevor's number, unsure what kind of response she would get from him, or, even, if he would pick up.