She waved at him. He didn't need to be sorry. He hadn't been the one to drive her to the choice she'd made in the end. When he went to get plates she picked the food out of the bag and set it on the bed. She didn't look forward to cleaning crumbs out of the covers, but she'd not mind. He was trying so hard.
"I suppose I ought to." She was never very hungry like this, but she didn't want to waste away again. It had been a long death, compared to the quick one on the chariot.
She put the food on the plates and handed him his before picking at her own food. When she glanced to the clock she frowned. "I thought you worked later?"