Darla tilted her head slightly, eyebrows furrowing softly. "... did she help you find it? D-d-did... did you ever find it?" Eyes for a moment were clear and lit with a sad interest in whatever the woman known as Alma might have lost.
She looked down again at the mention of her aunt, as the door of Cafe Reggio chimed open in the distance. It sounded a hundred miles away. So did the softly spoken order given to the petite cafe barista, in a cold, unyielding voice that belonged to a tall woman with dark hair and darker eyes. Darla sighed, "Oh, oh... i-i-it's fine, I mean. N-no need to be sorry about a loss that wa...wasn't y-yours." Suddenly, Darla felt the familiar sensation she did, when thoughts of her aunt and the blood and oh, oh the woman must have been torn apart. It felt kind of like drowning, being swallowed whole by her own grieving pain.
Soundlessly, Achren Psiakis brought a chair, placed it at the small corner table where the two sat, and seated herself in one fluid gesture. Because of the sorrow pouring from every inch of Darla's being, the girl would not notice Akhe's ethereal presence until a moment or two had passed. "Alma," she spoke smoothly, through a thin and frigid smile as dark eyes slid to settle on her student. "Hello, Darla."