She still feels bad - nobody likes to be reminded of dead relatives, no matter who you are, and if she's family then she's a mother or a sister or an aunt - the way he's hit by it, Raleigh doesn't think it would be a distant cousin he barely knows.

But he offers lunch, and he's being nice, and she's hungry so she tentatively nods. She doesn't realise she's almost got that look, the look that separates the college students happy for free pizza and the college students who need free pizza. "Thank you," she says sincerely, and it's only when he moves that she actually moves into the house. The awkwardness of her gait is mollified by how slow she moves, looking around the unfamiliar place.

"I'm not actually new," she says as she turns to look at him. "I've been in town for five months, I just work weird hours. Baker," she says like that's explanation enough even though she doesn't realise that sometimes? It's actually not - unless you know that most people in bakeries get up far before dawn, that kind of means nothing.