"A little bit to the left, but the doctors are working on correcting that." Bekka replied without a trace of a smirk and a wave against the smoke. She had removed the standard sweater of her day-to-day uniform, and the edges of her shirt were un-tucked around the skirt. On the hem looked to be the remains of a bit of lace, the remains of an idea of her mother from school years gone by.

She had her own cigarettes, a half-dead cell phone and two buts already at her feet. Taking a drag, Bekka finished off her third and tossed it down, crushing the embers with her heel.

"Survive the Spanish Inquisition?" She asked, adding quickly, "Or Jewish, in my case."