If her smile seems a little brittle in response , it’s only because she should have expected that.

“I figure one of these days I’ll find someone else from my first home with that jabber, but no luck yet,” she says.

She maneuvers herself behind Stone’s back, pressing her thumbs into her palms and flexing her fingers to warm up.

“My art involves laying on of hands,” she warns. “It’ll be gentle, but I thought you’d appreciate the warning. Are we good to go?”