This is not Idaia's closet.
It's something weird.
That could be either a really good thing or a really bad thing.
She probably wasn't going to succeed at what she needed to succeed at anyway; worth the gamble.
She steps inside.
"He was in Utah? So, you're like a thousand miles away? And the physical upper limit on the speed of the first car he would have seen after he got the news is probably a hundred fifty miles an hour. So I bet you've got another six hours."
"Did he steal a car. I should probably not be surprised by that. Six hours plus however long it takes to get him coherent enough to give directions and acquire a trailer...you'd better give me your email address."
"...So the plan is we wait for Idaia's husband and then he tells us how to get to Canada and we go?"
"Theoretically, yeah. I'm going to see if we can get a trailer in the meanwhile so he and Idaia can fall apart on each other there and be available for osanwe-based directions rather than having that hold us up."
"Okay; should I be doing anything in particular that's at all time-sensitive while we wait?"
"Don't think so. Oh, did you or the smol tell Idaia's father-in-law about Rumil?"
"No. I suppose it'd be polite to tell them how many guests to expect."
"Yeah." Fëanáro when you get a chance can you mention that Rúmil's along, if you haven't?
And when this is relayed to Bella, Grownup Fëanáro thinks you are going to be furious with him on the grounds that his was, possibly about prophetic content that went through as predicted here.