There's a whole lot to unpack there, and she's still deciding if she actually wants any of it. If she wants to open the door for him to ask similar things of her. The people back home, after all, are still mourning Jesus while this morning he made her breakfast; they might be mourning her, although she has no clear memory of what might have happened like the others here who know they've died. Maybe it was that quick, that complete for her. Maybe it just means she's not dead.

Either way, she's still worn out enough and the loss is still fresh and unprocessed enough that here, away from Jesus who has his own issues to deal with around his death and doesn't need hers, she feels the faint pinprick sting at the corners of her eyes and shoves it back mercilessly to focus on what Jacob is saying. It's stupid, anyway.

"Alright. I'm game for that. We've already started with names, so the next logical step is are you reaching out to a lot of people from the pit, or is there another reason you wanted to talk to me again?"