"Sure," she agreed. "Just abandoned ones in ghost stories," she continued. "Haunted ones, closed down ones." She shrugged, but it didn't much matter. If he wasn't from one, he wasn't. Even if he was, so what? Here they were.
"Yup," she agreed. "My adventures in Mount Zenith. Chapter Two, Some Guy Named Marco," she went on as if she really was working on a book. If she'd been a writer or a blogger or remotely interested in biographies, she might have given the idea some legit consideration, but she doubted - even if she was those things - they'd let that information out of the mansion when this was over.
Assuming they weren't all dead at the end.
"LA," she repeated, actually a little interested now. "From Long Beach. That's not so far," she murmured. Interesting, but probably meaningless. "I was at a bonfire, and then I was here," she added grimly.