"... Oh." Greta frowns over a half-completed sandwich. It does sound like childish nonsense, but the fact that it worked brings it uncomfortably close to witchcraft. Not that she ought to complain, if it helped Jay talk to people. Spelling things out letter by letter must have been tedious, but at least it's better than making a powdery mess just to make out a gesture or two.

For a moment, she wonders if they could reach Tim that way, but... probably not. It's not as if he's a ghost in the room. Wherever he's been taken, she doubts he could be reached with a toy.

"Well, it sounds better than the flour trick," she allows, setting the sandwich down on the table.

Greta steps back and absently swipes her palms over her skirt, looking around the little apartment, gaze lingering a bit longer on the half-open bedroom door before settling back on Jay. "Why don't I keep you company for a while?" she suggests. "I could help tidy up a bit, and if... if nothing changes, we'll figure out how best to care for Tim." Even if that means having him taken to a hospital. She still doesn't much like the idea, but money doesn't have to be a problem. Gabriel seems to like her well enough; he'd probably just miracle some up if she asked him nicely.