"Parties?" What small comfort she took in the reassurance that murder is for him as common an occurrence as she has seen it to be in her own short lifetime crumbles in the face of the confusion his last statement and question introduce to the conversation.

She looks down at herself in bewilderment, wanting to ask more about these parties but feeling more or less compelled to provide some kind of answer when faced with a direct question. "It is a suit," she observes, no less troubled by that answer than she was when she first discovered it, though her voice remains flat. "With boots that I don't like. I am dressed as...a person?"

It's a guess. It seems a likely guess. "I don't understand why I'm wearing this," she admits. "What is a murder mystery party?"