"Alive. We'll see how long that lasts, anyway, but, you know." She turned to the bartender, who'd swung back their way. "I'll have the same—whiskey, neat," she said, before slouching onto the bar, elbows folded.

"Keeping myself busy," she went on, directed once again at Shawn. "You know what they say about idle hands doing the devil's work. Ha ha ha." It was a mirthless laugh, without any real energy behind it—not surprising, given that she'd barely been getting any sleep.