It's one of those moments when Beth's glad she has long sleeves on, with cuffs that cover the scar on her wrist. She's going to have to find some bracelets for when the weather turns nicer. And maybe concealer for everything on her face - but God, how did everyone just wear that much makeup, back before the turn? Just having lipstick on is distracting, these days.

"You just...came here," she murmurs, taking in the cookies and the woman's smile and the sound of her voice. Something about her seems more connected than their neighbors - or maybe she's just hoping that's the case. Either way, it's freezing out, and in the hand hidden by the door, Beth's holding a knife. She moves out of the way to let her in. "Me, too."