[ Her hands feel empty as she follows him back to the cafe. She may have the proof that he's there now, but there's no guarantee he won't disappear just as he had before. It's a paranoid thought, and she doesn't like it one bit. She's scowling over it as they take their seats. ]

I understand that. And I can't offer you any proof other than the word of everyone who was left behind. I don't like it any more than you do, but that's the state of things.