It's been hours, and not that Rosita isn't perfectly capable of holding a grudge as long as she needs to, but she's not feeling surprised and defensive anymore. She shakes her head and taps her fingertips on the bartop.

"Mad isn't the right word," she admits. "You know how it is when someone gets infected. What a gutpunch it is, how fast you have to be - and how there's always one person thinking this one is going to be different because it's someone close to them."