The scene was somewhat terrifying, the Romani woman using the chained captive as a ventriloquist's dummy, but Reid was too focused on the words to care. The name, George Foyet - it hit a sore spot with every single agent in the BAU at this point, given that they had been hunting him whilst being assisted by him, believing him to be the sole surviving victim of the Reaper. From a profiler's perspective, the fact that L referred to Aaron Hotchner as 'Hotch', a name that only the BAU tended to use privately, was also cause for concern.
The news hit Reid like a tonne of bricks. The idea of the man stabbing Hotch terrified him, and he would have backed away but he was frozen in place, usually warm brown eyes chilled to the core as they uncharacteristically were glued directly to L's weary ones. When L freaked out and pulled back, Reid seemed to snap out of it for a moment, but the sudden deliverence of even more bad news quickly regained the profiler's attention.
"Wh... what? Haley... what?!" Reid pulled back, shaking his head. "N-no, this is... n-ninety-eight per cent of fortune telling and tarot reading, it, it's false, it's a fairground gimmick with no truth behind it, there's never been a solidly proven case where fortune telling has actually come true, just speculation and coincidence sustaining the remaining two per cent..."
He was babbling, searching for something in his head to keep the news from being a lie. But the fact that he - or rather, the Gypsy - knew Haley and Hotch's names, knew of the connection to the Reaper with the BAU, knew his mother's name and that he wrote to her... it was all too much to be a coincidence.
And then Reid remembered where he was. Vas Captio. A place where they deliberately put you in situations to stress your emotions. He - slowly - pulled himself together. He swallowed, once, then again, and exhaled slowly.
"Th-thank you for your time, Madame Romani..." he said with a ginger nod. He looked over at L again. "M-may I continue to speak with him? Not about my fortune, but..."