Tara stared at him for a long moment, her brows knitting in confusion. 'I- um. Eggs. Coffee. You mentioned coffee?" It wasn't adding up, to her. If he was going to do it, to take her away, if the guys were waiting or he was going to shoot her, she didn't know why he asked her about food. Why he did anything, really.

She pulled in a breath, and looked away as she exhaled, as Thomas stared up at his father, his eyelids growing heavy from being wrapped in a blanket. He still got security from that, and it tended to put him to sleep.

"I think," she said after a second, "I think I've gone crazy. So. There's that." She said it quietly, and it seemed like every muscle in her body was tense, on edge, ready for fight or flight, and she didn't know what to do.