Oh my god, she thinks. Let it go. Jess didn't save anyone's life. If she'd taken off a few minutes later, who knows what kind of silence would be filling this house right now. These people are Trish levels of delusional. (They're Trish levels of a lot of things.)

"Thanks for the coffee," Jess says with a nod that's pretending to accept Frank's thanks and Kamala's satisfaction, optimism, earnest nature, general Kamalaness. At the back of her eyes, she's already preoccupied with the real world math of drinking more and jogging less, but that's a hell of a quick calculation as far as tonight is concerned. It gives her a little purpose to bow out with, rather than the impression that she has nowhere in mind to go.