I still miss him. He's moved on, but I just can't stop thinking about him. He was a warrior, and he died fighting. It's cool to think of him and be reminded of him."
A tiny bit of shame sticks to her neck as she turns away. It's now at the top of her shorts, and when she looks back down at it, she sees that her black hair is nicked and a small black stain has taken its place over her lips.
"I do wish I could move on," she says, with a shrug. "But it's not like I'm going to be able to do that, is it?"
"Not really," she says with a smirk. "I'm not going to be able to look at you any more than I can look at my wife. But I don't think that the world deserves to be cut up, either."
"What do you mean, cut up?"
"The world deserves to be cut up," she says, and she almost laughs. "I mean, I believe in justice, but it's not justice that is at stake here. It's—it's only a matter of time before someone inevitably suspects me of something. And then it's only a matter of time before another person finds out about it, and then it's only a matter of time before another person comes forward and charges me with something."