After leaving Grayshire abruptly, Amelia's funds had quickly been down to the bills she'd shoved in her wallet before leaving for the grocery store. She had no intention of using her bank account, rendering her cards useless, wary of leaving any sort of trail for the team that had come to silence her hometown to follow. Fortunately, New York City was a big place, and Amelia had found a building somewhere on the east side of Manhattan where the landlord was more wrapped up in his "other" business than his ownership of the apartments. There were plenty of shady people there, but rent was cheap, and she could deal with the damp and drafty conditions because at least it was a roof over her head. She'd already managed to get hired busing tables at a small bar that had seen better days, but it was money in her pocket and they hadn't asked a whole lot of questions.

One of the two small televisions tucked into the corners of the bar for patrons to watch was turned to the news, and as she wiped down the empty tables, Amelia struggled not to cringe as Grayshire was brought up - again. Taking the entire town off the map had been labeled as a second terrorist strike, combated by the military, and that the "loss of life was devastating, an entire town undeserving of its fate". She wasn't sure if she wanted to laugh or cry at the stories circulating about her home, but she knew that not everyone in the state was sympathetic to Grayshire and its survivors, her gaudily painted nails a testament to that. Too many questions about why they were long and why they were sharp had her purchasing the most obnoxious shade of blue she could find and painting her nails, even sticking on those rhinestones they sold for decorating nails. After that, at least, the questions had stopped.

Clips she'd watched earlier that day about JTechs and their possible roles in recent happenings played next, and Amelia struggled to tune out what was already becoming old news. The televisions left her ears ringing constantly while she was on the floor, and she happily swept up glasses left behind to take to the back to be cleaned up. Busing tables wasn't that bad, aside from the care she had to take to not scratch up the tableware or even the wooden tables. At the very least, she figured she had a way to defend herself if someone got the bright idea to try and mug her.