There's relief for one brief moment when the room is clean, her shoulders sagging and a heavy sigh escaping her lips, but it's so short-lived that the woman curses herself for having held the hope at all. She could cry, if she'd let herself.

She's less wary now when he makes his approach, willing to believe at least for the moment that he's here to help her. His second spell seems to have little effect, however. Odessa merely squirms and pulls a face. "That felt strange. So you're a wizard, then."

Her gaze drifts to a spot on the floor, which she stares at for a long moment, visibly attempting to fight against the irresistible urge before she finally drops her to knees again with a frustrated groan, and begins scrubbing furiously. "I don't know if this helps, or maybe I'm just tired, and babbling, but... The last thing I remember before I found myself here was being in a bar with a man." And if 'Dessa had a nickel for each time she admitted to that... "It was midnight, and then I was here."

She wipes at her brow with the back of her arm, stifling a wide yawn against the crook of her elbow before returning to her work. "I did all this to myself. My dress and the scrapes, I mean." She shakes her head. "Fuck," she mutters, "these shoes aren't even mine."