[ She's about to say that's okay, I like scrambled eggs when he asks the obvious follow-up question. Somehow, it feels so much more exposed to answer how old are you? than any of his other questions, though she can't quite put into words why. Maybe because talking about the farm doesn't matter; it's gone, and even if it weren't, it's hundreds of miles away. But she's eighteen here and now, and Gorman -
Isn't here. You killed him. ]
Eighteen.
[ If she trusted him, maybe she'd add how eleventh grade had just started when the world ended. Instead, she does the only thing that gives her back a little power. ]
no subject
Isn't here. You killed him. ]
Eighteen.
[ If she trusted him, maybe she'd add how eleventh grade had just started when the world ended. Instead, she does the only thing that gives her back a little power. ]
How old are you?