Mohinder's not even paying attention. He's been sitting at the window with a photo of Molly in his hands, one that Matt had given him a day or so before. He's almost rubbed the picture right off. The person at the door doesn't interest him in the slightest, though he glances up to see her standing on her toes to hug man.

Daphne holds on too tight. "Matt," she whispers in his ear, "you have to run."