The silence should have felt awkward but instead with that one silent nod Malou felt as if he had entirely understood every word she had said. The look on his face was gentle, more than gentle, but Malou couldn't place it. It calmed her though, took the edge of nerves off and reminded her that she could trust Mr. Prewett.

At his words she gave him a soft smile that faded quickly, she appreciated the words, the sentiments that laid behind them. How right he was, her religious upbringing reminded her. Her faith the one thing that kept her sane in situations like this. The knowledge that someone else held the wheel and she was a prideful being to think she might keep another from death. "You are right, Mr. Prewett. Yet it does little to ease the ache for the ones left behind." Her accent was just a bit stronger with the emotion tugging at her, with the memories that had begun to spring to mind. She knew he could understand that, the pain of being the one left behind.

When she had arrived at the hospital on Monday the first thing she had done had been to check on Mr. Thompsett. She had suspected that Mrs. Thompsett had been a mother, but she had gone further and enquired after his family. Three children. Three children who now were motherless. Two were still in school. Malou's heart had twisted at the thought. She had wanted to write them a note but knew nothing to make it better. Instead Tuesday night she had baked a batch of cookies and sent a prayer book with a small note of her sorrow at their mother's passing. It would do nothing to help the children, but it had helped her own guilty soul. She almost mentioned the Thompsetts to Mr. Prewett but recalled the recognition in Mr. Prewett's voice when he had helped her with Mr. Thompsett. He likely was close enough to know the family, she didn't wish to cause him any additional pain by bringing it up.

"Whatever are you talking of? Your much too solemn for tea." Mrs. Bagshot's bright voice broke into their conversation as she swirled in a blue satin around the couch and perched on a chair just as a maid set the tea service in front of them. She turned to look at Malou, "Would you mind serving the tea, my dear?" Malou's dainty hands reached for the silver kettle and poured the tea into each mug, "Do you take cream or sugar, Mr. Prewett?" Malou may have chosen an unconvential path for life but she had certainly been trained for occasions like since she had been a small child. Now she hardly noticed her own actions of such an activity. Her hand paused over the cream, suspecting he likely did not take sugar in his tea.