He laughs when he sees her face. It's a subdued one, quiet, one without much humor, but it's a laugh. He can't really help it. He's seen that look one too many times not to recognize it when he sees it. She must have learned it from him. She had always been following him around. Makes sense that she'd pick up on a few things.

"You look a lot like your brother when you do that," he says, closing the door and walking past her to grab the tea. He hands her one of the cups before sitting down, placing his tea on the table. She's not the only one sure where to begin, except that he knows it's his responsibility to explain a few things, and then branch off from a common point. Otherwise, the things that don't make sense are going to sound even less believable as he gets to it. Make everything into a goddamn pile of shredded paper with words on it, all of which are true in some fashion, but confusing as hell and hard to put back together.

"You don't need to start anywhere. Just siddown for a minute." He wishes then that the truth could be something easy. "You trust me?"