She laughed softly as Al rummaged through his cabinets to find his kettle. "Thank you," she told him, as she leaned against the counter.
When Al gave her a vague answer and then turned the tables on her, Ana exhaled. "I'm..." Her first instinct was to say "okay," like she'd been telling everyone before. But there was a reason she'd come to see him, and it wasn't just to bring cupcakes. She had a gut feeling Al wouldn't judge her, or pity her, but understand her. And if he didn't, well... she'd tried.
She started again. "I'm alive," she finally said. "But..." But she wasn't, not really, not the same way she had been. Everything she'd worked for when she'd first gotten here seemed to have been taken from her in such a short time. "I don't feel like myself," she confessed. "Not the way I was before." She frowned.