She knows the words are a moot point to him. They were more for her benefit than his, desperate to keep herself in control of something.

She stares down at her hands, both in her lap now, curled and shaking slightly. She scoots away from him, just a little and slides down in the bed, till she's laying down again, pulling the sheet up to her nose.

Sometimes she wishes she could hide away from it all. "I want to talk to her. I won't...I won't go looking for her." She murmurs into the sheet. "But if she finds me, I'm not going to run away."