Stiles slammed his laptop shut as he walked over to the widow, cracking it so he could speak to Summer. “H-hey… Uh… Whatcha doing?”
“I can’t leave you here like this!” she objected. “Not without trying to help. I’m probably the only person you know who /can/ help!”
Stiles gave her a side eye. “… How do you plan on helping, exactly?”
Furiously, she said, “Not like that!” Aw, hell. “I, uh, Stiles. This is not how I wanted you to find this out.” She slid down the wall and sat with her knees propped up, staring at him. “I — I’m an empath. I might be able to — to suppress it.”