[June would like to be early. She plans on it, even. But she ends up arriving almost fifteen minutes late, owing to the time she'd spent pacing her cabin, psyching herself up and resisting the urge to just not go at all.]

I was a con artist at home.

[She says, when he looks up and notices her hovering in the common room doorway.]

I didn't kill people, or even hurt them physically; I just stole their money. Most of the time, I never even had to see their faces.