A wounded ego holds Isidor's scowl firmly in place while Jim explains, and then it deepens when he's finished. "Deficiency?" Her eyes slide off to look at the furniture. "That doesn't sound right. It doesn't sound like it feels right."

For the first time in a very, very long time, Isidor wishes her father was here. Not out of any fear, but for the sake of a simple explanation. He would know what was going on, she's sure of that.

But for now, she has half-answers and a sore spot on her pride. "You could have warned me."