She doesn't bother answering the text, just heads downstairs and puts on a smile for her friend who is altogether too patient and too generous and too beautiful oh no look at her hair oh god she's so cute. Maybe this is a bad idea. This is probably a terrible idea. Wilmot's is a bad plan anyway. They should go somewhere new. Somewhere norther. Closer to Greta's digs. So Greta can escape if she needs to.

"Hi," she says, her smile getting big and awkward, like she's forgotten how to socialize, which she basically has. "You look pretty."

That's terrible. Why would she say that. Greta probably knows she looks nice, she doesn't need to hear about it. What is she, some catcalling jerk on the sidewalk? Now Greta is going to feel that social pressure to return the compliment and she'll feel awkward about it because do people with one arm want to hear that, will Iman only react like a huge fucking asshole like she did before, no I'm not I'm broken don't you dare be nice to me okay okay calm the fuck down.

"Um," she says quickly, blinking a lot. "Sorry, I just, uh, I know I made you come all this way but I was thinking it might be nice to explore your neighborhood a bit, you know, find a nice place closer to you. Thought that might be nice, yeah? If you don't mind walking. I don't mind. If you don't. It is a nice day and stuff."

Stop. Talking.

Holy shit.