There are implications, things they aren't saying, things Rosita has been specifically avoiding and still would be if things were different. But they're not different, there's a pronounced need now, and that means none of the rest matters. Get everyone through alive, and triage afterwards. Right now it only means what it means.

Later, well. Later is later.

"Alright," she agrees, and leads the way up the staircase.

The door to the room he chose is still closed, but when Rosita opens it and steps through it's obvious there's been work done. Debris cleared out, and the old drywall and insulation pulled down so she could get to the wiring and the plumbing, but she's also put a few things in here as well. There are a couple books on the windowsill, and where the wall needs to put back together properly there is the framework for shelves. Appropriately sized for books, but there's nothing there, just space or something could be.

There's a mattress in plastic up against the wall, and a desk that she found in another room and moved here at some point. The light turns on when she flips the switch, and the glass in the window is intact now.

She presses her lips together, and looks over at him.

"We'll move some vent covers from other rooms and make sure dulcinea can't get into them," she offers, setting the pack she has down. "I'll go get some tools."

Let him get settled without her staring at him. She didn't want to do this this way, but now there's no time.