Ivy was of the same mind as Marco. They should at least try to make sure the house was safe. She was thinking they would be okay as long as they were inside, given what the warning said on the floor when they arrived, but it never hurt to be cautious. People seemed to move on from the dead body awfully fast but maybe being here as long as they have had desensitized some of them to the horrible stuff. Ivy didn’t really know how to fish and while she could garden, Scotty seemed to have that taken care of. She felt a bit useless at the moment, and tired, and she was already wanting to go back to the mill and sleep for a bit longer. She supposed she could wait until the meeting was formally adjourned, but she shifted a bit restlessly in her seat. “I’m not very handy, but I could help with that,” Ivy said, wanting to be useful somehow.
Kiley, on the other hand, didn’t need to wait for the meeting to be over. She wasn’t going fishing and she wasn’t the one with the capability of setting traps, or whatever else they wanted to do. That was definitely more in Chase’s wheelhouse than her own. In a way she thought of the people who used to visit her uncle’s bar. People who worked nine to five jobs and would come in for happy hour, complaining about pointless meetings where everything could have been sent in an email. Now she finally understood what they meant. Not to mention the fact that listening to Jack slur his words reminded her a bit too much of her dad and it was making her insides crawl uncomfortably deep in her gut. Wanting to go, and craving a cigarette, Kiley stood, not wanting to interrupt the conversation by announcing her departure. She pulled her cigarettes from her hoodie pocket instead and headed for the door.