She's not surprised; she has one, too. So does Jesus.

She wonders for a moment if that's all survivors really have to offer each other, is understanding why they're always ready to run, instead of knowing the reasons to stay. To feel safe, to feel like something can last. She nods anyway, and twists to set Dulcinea on the bed while she stands to find the bag.

He's packed the one tightly, but she finds another and makes sure to pick up some of the books off the desk, too, for the second one; she glances around for pictures, and she'll take those too unless he stops her. He has time to come back here any time he wants, but in case everything changes again, in case he doesn't want to, she wants him to already have some important pieces.

She shoulders one, and holds the other out to him. "Let's go. You can finish that on the way, or I have more at the house."