[ Claire's definition of home and what makes one is built around a life of never having a physical one, not until she was much older than Annabeth. Part of the reason she wants to sit and talk is to explain who she really is, and what her life has been like, not some made-up Singularity fantasy. Annabeth has let Claire in, and it feels like the right time to confide in return. ]

It will only continue to get easier from here. Before you know it, you'll be able to close your eyes, take a few deep breaths, and there you'll be. [ The cookies are placed on the counter and she nods. ] Thank you, dear. And you did see a cat. I didn't mean to call it into existence, I was being nostalgic and thinking about a cat I found in Cairo once. It was dehydrated and hungry, so I took it in, got it healthy and we had a little bond the rest of the time I was there. The Singularity must've decided I needed a companion.

[ She doesn't mind at all, though she's never named the cat. It's just there, and at times, comes inside to wind itself around her legs before leaving. Nodding toward the back door, she grabs a plate and begins transferring the cookies. ]

Now, should we go outside, or get comfortable on the couch?

[ Either way doesn't matter to her. ] And do you like coffee or would you like something different? [ The beauty of the Horizon is that there isn't any way to be a bad hostess, not when she can ask for anything. ]