She stopped fiddling with the cup but looked even more distressed in her stillness, trying to match the expressions she'd caught in Colt's eyes when he looked at her, and in her memories, few were very good. A lot of frustration and impatience (perhaps at her lack of understanding?) and even some trace of uncertainty. In the hazy backlight of weeks ago, she remembered his concern and his care when she had been sick, but now she didn't know whether that concern was pity or not. Her expression only became more cloudy as the seconds ticked by. "Worried," she said, finally, looking up.
Erin certainly had plenty to worry about. The Academy was opening, and whether or not she birthed that brain child, she most certainly was invested in its welfare now, particularly as it had a life of its own in the people (besides Colt) it would help. The Academy's success also signified a certain independence in Erin's professional life, and she would have liked to show her father that portfolio; if he'd have any idea of her motivations at all, which he wouldn't.