"I am," she says, because it's the truth, she is tremendously glad to have moved out of the Home, to have claimed a bit of independence for herself at last after so many months of planning and hoping. But there's another edge she thinks she can hear in Jamie's voice; not quite the oddly thunderous expression he'd worn for a moment as she'd opened the door, but something a little quieter and frail. Rosie moves close, giving him a gentle, brief hug before pulling away again. "Even if we're not living in the same place, you're not getting rid of me in the least, you know. Once I'm more settled in, you should come by for...I don't know, a movie or something. Something fun."

His question and the admission that follows it makes her laugh, bright if slightly rueful. "That, apparently, is all the furniture I bought yesterday," she says. "The place I bought it from said they had a delivery service, but nobody explained that it'd just be...pieces." Rosie looks up at him. "They'll deliver it, but you have to put it all together yourself."