Gladys was certainly old enough to handle her own. She had a job, and she had friends, or a least, people she could turn to if she needed to. They weren't always her own personal cheerleaders, exactly, but they'd rally for her in a time of need. That was the best thing about the factory- a built-in support team when you need 'em. Different people, different interests, different backgrounds. But they had a powerful common point; women, contributing to a greater effort while making their own way.

They found themselves very suddenly independent, yet sure of their ability to support themselves and their families. It was a new era, Gladys was sure of it, and she wanted to bring it in with a bang.

There's no better place than a bomb factory, she thought.

The socialite squared her shoulders as she carried several bags through the doorway of Kate's empty room and inhaled deeply while surveying her new surroundings. Of course, she'd seen the interior of this room many, many times. But, now, it's her room, with its peeling wallpaper and dark corners, in all its dusty and freeing glory.

"Hey," came a voice from behind her, accompanied by a gentle hand on the small of her back.

"I think I can do this," she said.

Betty's hand on her back settled there firmly. "You can. I know you can. It ain't the Ritz, but it's home."

"It feels like it might be home."

The blonde took one of the bags and bypassed Gladys through the narrow doorway. "It's your own. Well, kind of."

Gladys nodded and followed in behind her. "Are you, um, going to be alright? Being in here?"

Betty lowered her eyes and cleared her throat as if she were actually fighting a cough. "Yes. Uh, yes. I'm alright." She placed the bag on the bed.

Gladys absently nibbled at her bottom lip, contemplating the best place to deposit her belongings while unpacking them. "I'm glad." She glanced at Betty. "I'm glad that you are alright with this." She moved to the bed and unlatched the lock on the valise. "I am truly glad that you're here with me on this, too."

"I get why they named you GLADys."

Gladys turned to face her. "I do no want to talk about them anymore. They don't need to exist to me, right now."

Betty nodded. "I can understand that." She touched Gladys' arm softly. "I'm going to go do something with this hair of mine and head out for a little while. Do you want to come?"

Gladys looked to all of the unpacked luggage, but nodded. After all, it was strictly her life, now. Who cared if she didn't unpack straight away? If my life is mine, what shouldn't I do?

"I would love to."

Betty smiled. "I'll be across the hall."

"That's… comforting."

Betty was halfway out the door as she turned back slightly and said, "It's good to have you, Princess."