She looked to him, brows furrowing at that. Christine thought it would be good if he left - Erik wouldn't be there either and they could be left alone, maybe stop being scared. It seemed too easy though and Lotte shrugged - half at Christine and half at Bran. "Good." She didn't do sarcasm, but her tone was careless - forcefully so. Maybe she was getting better at lying. If another came, at least it was the evil she knew versus the evil she didn't know.
When he moved to the door, she followed again - a bit more closely, as she ducked around him and indoors. The air inside was thick enough to make her cough, hair falling forward in the movement. Clearly no one had been in there for awhile. She glanced around, before heading towards the kitchen - food was the more immediate concern other than more weapons. She couldn't imagine using a knife or using a gun - mace had always seemed like the limit for her. Besides, she couldn't remember the last time she ate.
"I don't know," she said, honestly. Pausing at the doorway, she tried to come up with something - ending up with only shaking her head again. He didn't get it. "You shouldn't have pretended to be them. I've been hearing them for years." Her eyes began to itch and she shut them, trying to keep from crying. Hadn't she done enough of that lately? "I've been trying to be normal since I was eight. You don't understand what it's like - everyone thought I was crazy." A final shake of the head. "And I don't sing because of them. They ruined it."