She chuckles and obediently takes hold of the desk, holding it firmly in place.

"I... it's all right," she shrugs a bit, though she knows he's not looking at her. "I was just a girl, no more than eight, when she passed. And my papa, well, he took good care of me."

It's his death that still eats at her, but then again the circumstances around that were a little more curious than natural causes.

She nods absently, a bit thoughtful. "He took good care of all of his own. The men who worked for us loved him. The men who worked for our neighbors loved him. But that was my pa, always sticking his neck out for someone else. He was always right there with Garrison. Even joined the Union, during the war. Only one in his whole town." She shakes her head, a faraway look in her eyes. "Didn't win himself a lot of friends, but he did what he felt was right.

"'We're all equal under the eyes of God.'"

She can't remember how many times she heard him say those words.