Her smile falters, eyes dimming, because the answer is no, such a strong no. Her two best friends in the world are dead and she's walking a tightrope, knows she might be next if she steps a foot out of line. Absently her hand drifts up, fingertips fluttering against the bow of the ribbon tied around her neck.

There's a mark of lips on it, a little kiss.

Can she talk about it, here? Does the spell keeping her quiet still work here?

Is she brave enough to try?

"It's fine," she lies, poorly. "I won't be there that much longer."