Her facial expression doesn't change when he speaks, but she can feel the wheels in her head turning, the familiar feeling she gets in her heart when someone says what she's reaching for is impossible. It's part anticipation, like a fluttering feeling of testing her own boundaries, but it mostly feels like a subtle ache in her muscles, like a call to action left on pause.

There are plenty of things she probably can't do. But very few she won't. And even less she won't try.

"I hope so. Nobody should have to be alone around here. If you need to talk, or I can help, I want to." She still probably shouldn't stick around here. Neither of them should. "Take care of yourself, alright? I'm here for you."