"Thanks," Molly echoes, smile widening slightly as she closes the door and locks it behind them. Most of the time, she knows that. Hell, even now, she does. When she's spent so long distinctly aware of how fucking awful she's looked, though, the healing process a slow, frustrating one, hearing it means more than it ordinarily would. She doesn't think he'd just be saying that, anyway. Disingenuous consolation doesn't strike her as being very much his style, especially when she's already made her intentions clear in inviting him over. "Believe it or not, I actually feel pretty good, too. How are you?"