Talkative, aren't you. [ It's more flat than the usual, wry tone she'd use in any other situation, and not really even a question. She fiddles with her phone and thinks about calling Tony, but something holds her back. She also abandons ideas of calling the police, as much as it goes against her better judgment at the moment. His face keeps niggling at her; she's certain now that she's seen him before somewhere. It bothers her, it bothers her something fierce. ]
Do you think there are more of them? [ she asks instead, nodding toward the closest exit. ]
no subject
Do you think there are more of them? [ she asks instead, nodding toward the closest exit. ]