"A house? A whole one?" Someone -- one of the psychics whose name Cheila didn't think she had ever known -- had tried explaining to her the system of renting and ownership. And then apartments and owning whole building, and how some people actually only rented one room. She had not understood why they couldn't all just live in their one building together and, well, happily. Those in the temple were just fine the way they were. Why couldn't everyone else be like that? Further explanations ensued from a number of different parties. Cheila had just looked at them, only half-listening, and wondered why these people who could not understand her comparatively tiny world thought she could begin to understand their huge world. There were systems and laws for everything. Everything had a monetary value. What she didn't understand was why. Even she had had a cost.
'Your mother is talking.'
Trying to put her thoughts in chronological order -- both in terms of this conversation and the universe in general -- any possible implication behind the comment about her sisters was lost on Cheila. Obviously, some things were just easier when explained by the person who lived it. First person sources were always better, really, so she didn't question it even though she should have known better already. Except she had missed something out; "I don't actually have anywhere else to live. The motel has a funny smell." And it wasn't as though she would ever actually bring herself to refuse. Also, money was an issue, even if Lincoln had been nice enough to leave her a fair amount. It wouldn't last forever.
Completely incapable of letting herself (or anyone else, if she could help it) dwell on topics of seriousness too long, Cheila beamed. She was relaxed enough to give Diana a proper hug in return and bounced slightly on her feet. Really, it was the one thing any child wanted to hear, regardless of age. "I had help, but we helped each other and the Earth-girl--" Cheila couldn't remember anyone's name. "--could make the ground shake." She ignored Lala's miniature lecture about how both women were going to have wind-burned cheeks. It was rather a given and not an argument she was about to jump into. "But you are well, yes?" There was a consistent trail of thought here, though it was made up of things she had meant to say earlier. "You and father?"