[center][color=teal][h2]Jessamyn "Jess" Bailey[/h2][/color][/center]

[color=teal]"Sorry!"[/color] Jess backed away as Roxy flinched. She should have known the gesture wouldn't be taken well. Silent once again, she retreated to the other side of the room and sat back down, picking up the rapidly congealing sandwich. She nearly gagged at the yellow goo that dribbled like melting plastic from the edges, slimy with tomato seeds and wilted basil leaves that reminded her of pondweed. What was usually comfort food now repulsed her.

She had to eat, she told herself, but her stress-tightened stomach clenched harder at the thought. She glanced at Roxy, who struggled to force down her own sandwich. That explained part of the lost appetite. Jess took a bite of her meal, the cheese lukewarm and rubbery in her mouth, grease trickling over her fingers. Guilt made it even more difficult for her to eat. Roxy's tone, as well as that pang of anxiety, had made it clear the job she'd mentioned wasn't going to be like the work they'd done this morning, before that man had appeared.

She should have stayed, the empath thought as she tried to finish her lunch. She should have waited for another match to come along, instead of selfishly tagging along after a reluctant anchor. Now, it turned out that reluctance was even more justified than she'd thought.