Brynna was fighting one of her bouts of homesickness and was reminded of something that her mother always said, "Life frequently goes to hell and hte best you can do is survive. And the advantage of being a woman who survives is that you have a perfect excuse to eat chocolate." Many of her mother's words of wisdom seemed to morph into comments about how to get by with eating as much as possible without anyone being able to actually comment about your food consumption. It really was no surprise that her mother's cover business was a deli.
She missed home. Sure, her world was weird and dangerous but it was hers. There were people there who cared about her even when they treated her like she was invisible. Here, she just felt off. She knew that half the people here wanted her to be someone else until that someone materialized in the last couple of days. Everyone else was understandbly caught up in their own survival. It really was no surprise that no one really had time for some random sixteen-year-old-girl from a world they'd never heard of.
By the time she got to the kitchen she was even more depressed and decided that things had gone from chocolate bad to grilled cheese bad. And everyone knew that they only comfort food level worse than grilled cheese was mashed potatoes. Mashed potatoes, it was rumored, would bring about the apocolypse.