[Aubrey rubs her face for a moment. Invites herself, at least, to the couch. It’s flooding back again, what he did. What she didn’t. What they all have and haven’t done, some internal tangle of half-scribbled bullshit that can make her want to hurl the nearest object, the nearest person, into a lake—

[In the end, all it even leads to is more exhaustion.

[She never wants it to be the last time she sees him.]

Yeah. [Another belated response.] I am. I guess that’s normal, though.

But I’m not… upset with you.

[She stares down, idly, at a lantern.]