[She frowns, realizes he can't see it, and creases her brows instead.]

We both know you promoted me for the housing. Thanks, but don't call me that.

Then she's shaking her head, not that he can see.] This is different. You know it is. Maybe I can. Maybe I don't want to. I can't risk forgetting him. Or Teacup. I won't.

I didn't think there was anything worse. Four-year-old IEDs, reading your memories like a book to use against you, ensuring that you can't trust anyone- including yourself, exploiting every weakness. [A beat.] Forgetting is worse. Me forgetting them. You forgetting me. It's not an unbearable truth I have to accept. I can choose to walk away. I want to-

[She cuts off, coughing from getting herself worked up. After she settles, she doesn't bother saying any more. There's no need.]