"Aww, that's so kind of you to say!" Stacia says with every sign of sincerity, pressing a hand to her chest as though Miguel had said something sweet rather than agreeing that she is loud and bossy. To be fair, it's something she's proud of; the society she was raised in tries to train that out of little girls, especially those who want to be perceived as 'cute'.

She smiles sadly at Miguel's sympathy. "Thanks," she says. "Turns out that the people responsible had a long history of doing that sort of thing to people they thought were too uppity or interfering with their 'betters'." She sneers over that last word, putting it inside finger quotes like something dirty she doesn't want to touch with her bare skin. "They're not a problem now, and I have hopes that the youngest one can be taught why what they were doing was wrong. But all the people they killed are still dead."

She sighs, sitting back in her seat.

"I've been to too many funerals for someone who never had grandparents."