Allowing her the silence needed, Malachi remained as he was. He did not stare, but he did watch her for a moment once her eyes were closed, a thoughtful expression painted on his face. How tired she seemed, in her weary grief, and if it hadn't been late in the evening, he might have reached out to steady her. Alone and unfamiliar as they were, though, Malachi kept his distance.

Once the woman had finished her prayer, he offered a reassuring smile. It might have been obvious that she was unfamiliar with the associated rituals of the Catholic church, but Malachi was hardly bothered by her sincere attempt.

"What's your name, miss?" He supposed a question might lighten any pressure she might have felt, or at least hoped that it would.

"You were close with Miss Harlowe?"