He'd been surprised by the letter, exuberant, but still surprised. Montague also felt a small strain of guilt for not seeing his cousin more often while he was comatose, and pushed it aside as he was much to busy with Verity and Marlowe, then his true fear.
He hadn't been to thrilled with going to the Shack, even if Cass was awake this time around, it wasn't a place he was comfortable with in general. It didn't help that he felt a separate strain of guilt at knowing he still had not told the whole story to Verity, that if she knew he was- had been- keeping Cass's condition a secret she'd have an epileptic fit.
Yet, when he lightly knocked on the frame, leaning against the wood seeing Cass alive and well in bed he figured he could probably tell her soon, perhaps have his ill-fated cousin over for dinner soon. "Hey," he gave a small head nod before moving to sit in the room instead of lurking.