"Thank you," she says, and she tries to look sympathetic without seeming a little sad. People losing people, even in an impermanent sense, isn't easy. She doesn't like seeing friends be down.

"He's back home then. That bites! I mean, I'd kind of liked to have seen him in a turkey coma!" Collette keeps her tone light, setting her fork down with the tines on her plate. "Hey, I'm sorry, Armin. He's your friend." She rests her hand on the table, palm side up, close to Armin. She's getting better about not assuming everyone's okay with being touched, or that it does anything close to reassure people who aren't like her. Making it more of an offer and invitation than an outright intrusion seems to help.