"Evidently."

Would he try to distract her from her woes without offering a warm drink? Perish the thought.

If she wants to call him Brother, Michael won't be the one to stop her. It's an old and familiar title to him, even older than the hundreds of years they collectively imagined. At most it might merit a warning: calling him brother is something some of his siblings had come to regret. But that's a conversation they'll get to soon enough.

He gives her a moment to take his arm and then leads the way to the front door, taking it slow as they pick their way around fallen branches and other debris that still litter the ground.

"Not your fault, either," he says, referring to the roof. "Whose domain was the wind?"

Maybe they can blame one of their fellow former-gods for the weather.

"I'm sure Josie will make room for you, if you need somewhere to stay temporarily."