Jaime was only vaguely aware of the door opening. Part of her hoped it was Lily, but she knew full well it wasn't. Couldn't be. So she was very slow about turning her head to look.
She recognized the man as one of the people involved in the magic meetings, and her thoughts flicked to Balthazar. Had he seen yet? Did he care?
Rubbing lightly at her cheeks, Jaime wondered how many people would be coming downstairs before reading the network, wondering where Lily was and why wasn't breakfast ready? She almost laughed at the thought of it, but ... well, she'd put out the Pop-Tarts or something and ... let them fend for themselves.
She was no cook, really, and she wasn't about to try right now.
"Hey," she said as she stepped into the kitchen. Her voice was dull, and flat, but Jaime didn't have it in her to feign enthusiasm about today. People were gone, presumed dead. What was to be cheerful about, when that was how the morning started?