Rosario's eyebrows lifted a fraction with that admission, surprised. She wasn't sure whether to believe it – or at least, she wasn't sure it was any more than a gracious exaggeration. Dr Herschel – Estella, she had to remember to call her Estella – looked every bit like she belonged in this place, a polished professional, carrying herself with a kind of self-contained poise that Rosario wished she could emulate. It was hard to imagine her needing a life raft, let alone one like Rosario, even if it did strike Rosario now that Estella was probably closer to her in age than most of the scientists and reporters in the room.
"Yeah, parties aren't my natural habitat, either," she agreed, smiling back at the woman. Wait— the smile faltered— oh crap, had that come out wrong—? "I mean— this is amazing, obviously."