"Good. Because, um. I." Her fingers curl around his sleeve, and she straightens, looking up at the ceiling and then at him.

Her eyes over-bright.

"You know, Halloween? When I woke up crying? I...I had a dream. Of Gene. Felt...real. He said, then, that...he was dead. Tibet. Peacekeeping. And that's what they said, when they told me today. I." She blinks, mouth twisting a bit. "He didn't recommend death by mob."