"Jeff," she answers, piling her arms with clothes. "She's named after this friend I had on the island. I used to bug him by calling him my Fake Island Dad, but he wasn't actually like my father figure, he was mostly just... he was Jeff." She isn't sure how else to describe Jeff Winger, except that she loves him and she misses him and she'd made it her personal mission to make him as uncomfortable as possible almost all the time. She smiles a little, then disappears into her bedroom to dump her clothes on the bed, which is actually a really good way to keep herself from wanting to pull Newt in here after they watch the tape.

There's always the couch, though, and she wrinkles her nose, wishing there was something she could do to make that less tempting.

"Okay, so, here's hoping we don't die?" she asks when she joins him in the living room again. And maybe she's sort of hoping they don't find anything useful on the tape either, a thought she doesn't express as she joins Newt, then slips her hand into his.