"I'm glad you think so, for a long time I thought you wouldn't want to speak with me." She says sadly, sinking back in her seat, shame warring with heartsickness in her expression.

"He died about a year ago." Priscilla's voice catches as she says it and pulling out a tissue from her pocket she dabs at her eyes and nose. "Lung cancer, they think it was from all the dust at work..." She trails off, sniffing sadly, taking a deep breath to compose herself before looking up at Rogue again tremulously.

"Now I have cancer too and I didn't want..." Her voice breaks again, struggling with her words for a moment, voice strangled with emotion before managing to continue. "I didn't want to go without making up with you and telling you the truth about your mother."