He was going to have a lot of awkward conversations in the future and she felt a bit bad about pushing that off on him, but she truly did not want to figure out how to have those conversations herself. Noah was more comfortable around other people, he knew his friends and family well enough to know how to approach them. People were hardly her forte. She barely spoke to the ones she did know. Aside from her brother, Noah may have been the only one who'd even really gotten her to talk about her thoughts and feelings. Any other time she had tried, she had immediately regretted it. But Noah had never made her feel that way.
"I'm... terrified," she replied. And it was difficult for her to admit even that much because nothing but facing her own death had ever truly shaken her. "I've raised children," she said again, "that isn't the part that concerns me." If anything, she felt completely confident about that part. "And I have no doubt that the feeling will subside the further along it is. But right now, there's nothing I can do. There's nothing anyone can do. It's just the way of things."
She knew he'd said that his friend could help, and Phasma didn't doubt that she would be able to offer some reassurance. But she was trying not to cross the line from vigilant to paranoid. "And," she added with a sigh, pulling back enough to look up at him, "I'm concerned about the others from... from where I'm from. None of them have the capacity to keep their mouths shut about anything and there's at least two who would know without ever being told. I can't predict how any of them might react but I also can't see it going particularly well."
They were going to find out eventually, though. That was inevitable. But she could put it off for as long as possible.