"It's the best it's going to get right now. All we need to do is give the rest time," Kate replies, pulling her legs up to her chest and giving her knees a squeeze as a form of a mini-stretch. "If not, tell my father I loved him when the mold takes me."

Clearly a joke if her snickering is any indication. Passing messages, no matter how sweet and touching they might be, between here and her Earth is impossible and Kate's pretty sure of that. Oh well. "Are the pipes safe for dishwashing yet?"

Whatever's on his CiD must be extra important--she's guessing texts from Wanda--so Kate doesn't really expect a quick reply.