"Congrats," she's short and a part of her is making a feeble attempt to remind herself this is a ten year-old child before her. Children don't have a proper grasp on the consequences and harsh reality of death. Unbeknownst to her, she does hope he won't have to find out for a long time.

She exhales, the coffee on table long forgotten. "You were serious about this." If it isn't for the fact it's unnerving information on her, she would be impressed.