Rogue twists her mother's pearls through her fingers, sitting on the sill of her open window. Wind pulls her hair back in waves of white and brown. Logan leans against the wall next to her. He chews on a cigar and watches her.

She's been quiet since they came with a note from a lawyer. An apology from her mother had been tucked inside the box.

She sighs and lowers the necklace to her lap. Logan pulls something from his pocket and holds it to his cigar. He proffers it, and Rogue takes the lit cigarette without looking at him.