Trish swallowed hard and tried to smile. There was a part of her that wanted to talk about it. Since arriving she hadn't said a word, at least not on the extent of what happened. A few people knew her father had been murdered, but no one knew who had done it. No one knew her friends had been murdered as well, and that she had been murdered. The reality of what happened was killing her as much as keeping silent was, but at the same time saying those words would make it true. Maybe if she didn't, maybe if she kept it to herself there could be some hope it was all some crazy dream. It didn't hurt to hope.
She pulled away slightly from Jaime and her gaze went to the floor. "Sorry," she said, wiping her eyes. "I didn't mean to..." she trailed off, and pursed her lips. She wished a hole would come and swallow her up, but that sort of thing never happened in Lawrence when you wanted it too.
"Yes," she nodded, looking back at Jaime, her tiny smile getting a bit wider. "I like the way you think," she ran a hand through her hair, she still looked like she was on the verge of tears. "I just hope that it stays that way. The past in the past..." Though, she couldn't help but wonder if she was passed? After all where she was from she was dead. If she was to ever leave Lawrence that's what she'd have to look forward too.
Her head was starting to pound a little, she was going to need a vicodin. "Would you like some tea?"