"Yeah, of course," Karen assures him with a quick nod. "I was actually outside, which I think may have been the better place to be since I've taken a look at what happened inside," she adds, motioning to the state of the room with her cup. She doesn't ask if he's okay. He's always his version of okay even when he's not.

The room begins to gently sway again, and she stiffens, both hands clamping around her coffee cup as the dishes begin gently clattering where they've been stacked on counters and in the wide bowl of the sink. The aftershock is a fraction of the intensity and length of the main quake, but it still puts her stomach in hard knots, and she doesn't realize she's held her breath until she sighs it out again as the motion ebbs.