More than anything

Saoirse nods, and she re-caps the milk before dashing out for one of the cups. There are a couple that had been set upright, like someone had grabbed it to fill with coffee and just sort of walked away. That's sort of what happened, she supposes. She leaves those there, though, and grabs one from the stack. She returns a moment later, then carefully pours some milk into it — slowly, so she doesn't spill or send the cup flying.

"Maybe, when this is all better, we could get a cow," she says, in a sort of thoughtful way. "Then we can have milk all the time."