5:30 PM
He wasn't particularly phased. He'd had worse questions in the past. Instead, he grabbed his computer bag and began to unpack. He gave his sister a scrutinizing glance, judging her expression for just a brief moment, before he nodded. "Gotcha," he said instead. "We don't want anyone knowing our deep, dark secrets."
He paused thoughtfully. "Or your recipe for whatever that is that smells so good." It was then that he realized he hadn't eaten since the previous morning. His stomach growled loudly at the mention and he pointed at the dog in blame. "Banksy's probably hungry. It's been an interesting voyage."