[Her smile's pained, weak, but it comes easily when she realizes that it is her brother and not the other guy. The last bit of stairs are a trouble in her haste; she stumbles down them, catching herself on the railing with a whine, and forces herself to straighten instead of curl up like she wants to, and when she actually speaks it's hoarse and shaky.]
Hi, Black. Home is a good word.
[Because it isn't like she's ever thought of Hellsalem's Lot as anything of the sort.]
no subject
Hi, Black. Home is a good word.
[Because it isn't like she's ever thought of Hellsalem's Lot as anything of the sort.]