[She tries to smile at his 'I really wasn't prepared for that' because she does appreciate the honesty of it. She lets out a shuddering breath, though, when he asks if she wants to talk about it. She stares out the window for a long time, clenching and unclenching her fingers.

She wants to spill everything, the whole terrible story. But most of it's not even hers to tell. Would it be right to tell it?]

There was -- an incident. At the mall. A lot of people died. He was one of them.

[She watched it happen; frozen in place, as a giant monster from another dimension murdered him.]

My mom and stepdad haven't -- been dealing with it very well.