Now that they're here, now that they're sitting down and she's presented with the actual opportunity to tell someone all that's happened, she finds she doesn't really know where to begin. She sinks down onto the bench beside him and concentrates on eating her ice cream for a moment as she tries to decide what might be the best place for her to begin. It honestly all starts with her childhood and she doesn't want to go that far back, she doesn't want to start telling Coop about what it was like growing up in a series of foster homes or that she learned to use her powers by making sure no one hurt her or the children she was with.

"I didn't know I was a siren," she says. "Not until I was in my teens. My parents... well, Robert fucked off and my mom was an addict, so my sister and I were taken away and I had no idea, but I knew I could do things. I could make people do things just by telling them to and when you grow up in foster care..." She trails off and shrugs. "There's a lot of reason to tell people what not to do, anyway. There was no one to really take care of me, no one to help me figure out how to go to college and when I realized what I was and that I could just make people give me their money, that seemed a hell of a lot easier than trying to find a legitimate job."

And it was. It is easy and she loves it. She doesn't feel guilty, she doesn't see any reason why she should.

"I don't target men with children," she says. "I don't target good men. The people I've taken money from have generally been assholes, but that also means they might be more inclined to take revenge." She pauses, then smiles faintly and looks over at Coop. "I'm still wanted to New York and Alabama."