Elizabeth imagines the scene-- small Ivan, Miles, and Greg sneaking as only young boys can sneak under a tablecloth or something, their shirts bulging with something staining the inside-- and smiles. She can almost put herself in that image, and she wishes it had been that way. Mischief, relatives or siblings around her age, harmless 'adventure'...

"It sounds like a really nice memory," Elizabeth says with a wistful smile, shuffling into her room after Ivan opens the door for her. She has no roommates, so she just walks right in without any announcement. "Alright, which bed are we posting up in?"