It was a bit funny, wasn't it, how, now that the shirt was back in the picture, Amaya was suddenly thinking that it wouldn't have hurt any if it maybe had been just a little more difficult to locate. She was just going to wash that thought down with more of her coffee, before returning that studious look back at Dwight and his mutterings.

"Well," she said, stoutly, as if deciding firmly not to even dignify that last part with a response...again; if it weren't for the situation, she'd almost think they were still stuck in some sort of time loop, because she was pretty sure they'd been over this yesterday, "either way, it's been taken care of and we can, finally, get on with our lives. Literally."

She looked at him again, mostly thoughtful, but clearly with an effort to look rather passive about the complicated mix of thoughts that entailed.

"Starting, I think," she decided, with another sip and a turn toward the kitchen, "some breakfast."