Abby doesn't really notice him tripping up over the expression. She's eating the shredded bits of her roll to remove the evidence of it, brow furrowed. Mouth curling down at the corners, jaw set and back teeth touching each other painfully when she chews, sensitive from being ground in her sleep.

"I know." And there's no talking the other out of it, is there.

A pause. She nibbles bread. She adds, less angry and worried, more sulky, "I didn't do anything to that fucking sign-up sheet, you know."