"Helena Kelly," She had no qualms naming her forthright, and barely before he'd stopped asking her the question. It had in fact interjected his final syllable; gently, of course, as her manners were mindful and delicate as cobwebs, ever present as the act of breathing. Her bone-white knuckle rested upon her hip then. She stood examining his reaction to the name--did he know her? She'd lived here quite a while. And oh, not just that... she had a detail even better for him. It slammed against her memory; she'd almost forgotten to mention it.
"Mina Harker."
In her weary little head, it was all coming together as an enormous, almost amusingly so, event of destiny. Destiny, which she barely believed in any more, that seemed more nightmarish than peaceful and fanciful. Still, as noted, she was stubborn and somehow her heart refused to believe anything fatal or wretched. Maybe she wanted that aspirin now... yes, she walked back, shutting her eyes for a moment very tightly to sturdy the headache, and took the pill between her fingers.
It was swallowed along with the rest of her tea without any reluctance.