[There's a long pause. A very, very long pause. Because, well, she heard it all, yes, but only one question really stuck with her.
Are they someone you can trust to have your back?
The memories make it hard, and there's a bit of sound. She's still there, trying to bring herself back under control. Not lose herself in the fear and anger that still coils around her insides when she thinks about the Games.
When she remembers how she died. Screaming for help that came too late.
When she remembers every time here she's needed help, and he hasn't been there.]
no subject
Are they someone you can trust to have your back?
The memories make it hard, and there's a bit of sound. She's still there, trying to bring herself back under control. Not lose herself in the fear and anger that still coils around her insides when she thinks about the Games.
When she remembers how she died. Screaming for help that came too late.
When she remembers every time here she's needed help, and he hasn't been there.]
No.
[The single word comes out, quiet and unsteady.]
He'd protect his child.
But not me.