Her head tilts as he examines her, and the air in the kitchen feels thick, like fog and molasses. At his words, her hand lifts to that shoulder, her fingers briefly caressing her skin.

"It is," she replies, tugging her strap back up, not that it makes any conceivable difference. "And it was, it was hideous. I'm better off without it."

She sways a little, then has another mouthful of her drink.