[She breathes out, heavy and slow. She knows, she knows. But it is a wrenching, heady relief to hear someone else say it aloud, to hear Abigail say it, in particular. Abigail who wanted to go, who understands some things about Ben in a way Anya maybe never will. Abigail whom Anya would have taken along, if the Admiral had let her, and if there is any choice Ben might never have forgiven her for, that would probably be it.

It was not a mistake to go. And having gone, not a mistake to stay, to be thorough, to be sure, else what point going at all?]

Maybe I could have told him better. Maybe it wouldn't have mattered.

You don't have to fix us, anyway. We're working on it. Just - he's been. Agitated.

[She isn't his warden. But she is his friend.]