As he shows up, Hana's putting the finishing touches on a long note that she's written in anticipation of the conversation. She gestures to a cappuccino sitting in front of the empty chair next to hers, a peace offering if ever there was one. Then she switches to her texts and types before setting her phone down and signing, My name is Hana. H-A-N-A. Hana. Then she holds up her phone to show an unsent text that reads the same message.

Then she switches to the long note: I'm sorry. I usually have better control over my powers than that. I would never use empathy on others like that, normally. You were keyed up and I was keyed up and I acted wrongly.

I have a bad history with witches. Yes, my own kind. People who use magic flagrantly as a shortcut, no matter how much it hurts others. It's been done to me, many times, long before the mass spell that took everyone's memories and replaced them.

I shouldn't have lashed out at you.

There's not an apology for her feelings, only the way she'd misused her own powers toward him.