Her pokerface is solid; she doesn't betray even the slightest hint of concern when he brings up the topic, or the idea that York or Wash might be injured if Felix is still wandering around entirely intact with that information— though internal thoughts are a different story.

"¿Y a ti que te importa? That information's not getting you out of here in one piece, vato."

There's a hardness to it, her voice. A kind of cutting promise that wouldn't belong where any of her companions could either see or hear it when she pulls back to stand upright, eyes fixed on him like a predator waiting to pounce.