Sara's expression wrinkles and her head shakes easily enough. "Nothing."

Her lips press and she lifts her glass from the seat. The faint turn of her wrist and the edge of glass rim, with more gold than mahogony liquid swinging in the bottom of it, lifts toward the wall with the frozen slice of the map. "Time is still just as fine and just as fucked up--" Follows a tip toward the door that closed behind him when he came in. "--and no one's trying to kill anyone." Beat. "Yet."

"But it is still early." Because it was still somehow early-ish in this day when Leonard left.

"Besides," Sara pulled her glass back toward her. "Shouldn't I be asking you that?"