Vanya finds herself in a bizarre shrug. Her own bodily suppression was somehow not the worst of the atrocities Reginald visited on his scrappy little band of misfits (and Vanya). Still, it means a lot to Vanya when she finds herself the recipient of non-pitiable sympathy. It's another product of their terrible upbringing: an inability to accept at face value the things she needs or craves. Like connection. Like family.

She settles for tea, which appears in front of her as soon as she starts to wonder where the waitress went. She drops Sam's coffee off, as well. Vanya uses the space to think for a second.

"Can I assume your family didn't take it well? When your powers were activated?" She's got her hands curled around her mug like maybe she ordered a security blanket more than a beverage. She wants to be bold and put a voice to the questions she has while she has this kind book of a man open so generously before her.