She stayed in bed regardless of her state of sleep that afternoon. There were times when she was awake and staring at the wall, At some point, hunger kept her awake. She frowned softly, glancing around to make sure he was in the room with her or not far. His location would cause a shift in volume either way. Assuming he was still in the room, she'd say it quietly, "Sam? I think I am ready to eat... would you please?" She was so groggy that it was a mumble more than a graceful murmur. Regardless of her feelings about the situation they were in, with her feeling so tired all the time and losing hours working. She wasn't sure how to take in any of what they had talked about, but fearing him would not solve what was happening. She needed him but she felt guilty needing him. It was greatly complicated to her, her life was now intertwined with someone who had killed quite a few times. That was monumentally scary, but she wasn't afraid of him. She was beginning to wonder what to do now. Her thoughts were a continuous mess in her head currently, everything seeming to rush about a bit or slow down too much. Something about time felt somewhat skewed.