Reaching thin fingers out for the bowl, Effy idly sifts the materials, staring down at the way the sugar struggles to stay clear and bright against the darker brown. To Kate's question, Effy offers a slight shrug, glancing over at the vanilla beans with some amount of skepticism. Not that it matters to her, of course. Effy doesn't know if she'll even manage to swallow down the brownies, or if they'll stick in her throat, or if they'll leave her nauseated enough to need bracing against the wall. Her movement comes to a stop as she remembers the splatter of yellow against the white of her shoes.

Ignoring it, she continues mixing again. Sometimes, it isn't enough to have a reason to try— Effy has plenty, after all, friends who've been helping to look after her, friends like Kate who've now lost in turn. Were Effy to be fair, she'd have more reasons to shape now than ever. But it isn't something she's capable of forcing.

She shuffles towards the sink, filling two glasses of water for them.