[through gritted teeth] Someone is playing a complicated joke here, and it's not funny at all.

[but she goes back to stony silence, thinking about that for a long moment. sorry, Conan--anger is her default response to frustration] I...met someone at a café. [she stops, surprised that she's managing to remember...well, a little about what's happened, anyway] Yeah, I was supposed to meet some new bloke! He got my name from one of my other contacts...was that Monday? [she makes a face] Wait, there was a restaurant, too. Some...infection. I think... [she trails off, trying to let the memory come to her--and then her expression turns rather horrified] Just how many times did I get killed!?