She finishes her own hotdog in short order, managing to not get any more of the filling on her face (or her clothes, thankfully) and she licks the grease off her fingers while they sit there. Her head tilts slightly in his direction, listening, and she chuckles as he points the metaphorical spotlight back at her.

"Oh, I wouldn't like to speculate," she hums. A complete lie, and one so brazenly told that she knows he'll recognise it as a joke. The chuckle turns into a laugh, then she presses her lips together and daintily shrugs one shoulder.

"It's hard to say. It might be the sisters again. We've no reason to believe they'd disappear for good."