[He looks up at those words and searches the interior of the place, stopping only when his eyes find his friend. His own smile, in response, is gentled by the sobriety of their encounter. Ilda--little twin. She's gone.

He comes to his feet and crosses over to X, but stops short of embracing him, instead touching his arm, his shoulder.]

She often came to the cafe to keep me company as I worked. She has an indomitably bright spirit.