Andrea stared at her, trying to hear what she was saying, but none of that made sense. Clementine was a child and this person in her room as at least as old as she was. She felt vulnerable, in bed, dressed in shorts and a t-shirt and she suddenly wished she'd asked Spike to stay with her the night before. Her guns were all locked up, which meant she couldn't get to them if threatened, but more than that, he'd be able to smell if this was a stranger.

But maybe she didn't need him for that. There was something about the way she was speaking, something familiar, and Andrea shook her head in disbelief.

"Wha... how?"