The hand on her shoulder was as solid as the ground beneath her feet, quashing again the theory of a vivid and violent fit of imagination. She was greatful for the gesture, and she let it show. Had circumstances been less demanding, she might have examined the coincidence of their shared origins in more depth--What wrong would there have been in looking for a link between herself and others here? Surely, a teleporting(?) car wasn't the only thing that was going to be thrown her way, and probably not the worst--or perhaps not. Plenty of people came from New York.
"We haven't been here for very long, either." She admitted, turning back to nudge Monty on the nose. It was sticking out of the window as he attempted to force more of his face through the small opening, determined to get a better look without incurring punishment by rolling it down too far. It was only a matter of time before either Simon tired of his brother's antics or Monty bumped the switch and pinched it. "That's enough from the peanut gallery." She instructed.
"Am I the peanut gallery?" Monty asked.
"Yes. Fingers and schnozes inside the car, please." The nose dissapeared behind the tinted window, though a pair of hushed voices continued snatches of their conversation within. "If they're that lively, they're probably no worse for the wear, but as you said, a little paranoia can be appropriate. It's best not to be out of town and have something awry go unattended."
She accepted the hand, and shook it. "Heidi--" She had to remind herself of the pending divorce "--Rothschild. I'm very glad to meet you, Gabriel, Gabriel Gray."