In a gesture of... something, solidarity maybe, she gently taps her glass against Em's in a bit of mock-'cheers'. Happy topics to celebrate, and all that lark. A little sip, and she's back to wracking her brain, trying to think of some way to salvage it, even in the face of Em's rather damning information.

"Well," she starts. It's the kind of tone people use when they're about to say something really trite and mildly irritating, like when life gives you lemons, make lemonade! "Well, we have been thrown in the deep end, but it's... bound to be some kind of learning experience. I mean, the things we're going through here, they'll teach us all kinds of new things." She drinks down a long draw of wine, inhales the next breath of her cigarette deeply, letting the smoke sit in her lungs before slowly exhaling, just taking a moment and lapsing into silence.

Of course, she'd been rather literally thrown in the deep end when she was six, and that had put her off learning to swim for quite a long time. It didn't bode very well for her desperately hopeful theory. That's hardly going to stop her from trying. "Maybe we didn't choose it, and we still don't want it, but there's something good we can get from it anyway. Glass half-full and that whole thing," she adds, tapping the side of her half-full glass to illustrate.