"Naah." She said, shaking her head again, "Just a case of this family tending to think with the hindbrain at times when we probably shouldn't."
She shifted her mug to the other hand, holding the other one up so he could see her palm, and the narrow scar running diagonally across it from the base of her pinky all the way to the base of her thumb, "Got married. I was sixteen, he was ... dead."