[Caitlyn nods. He may be making an educated guess, but it's a correct one.]
She wouldn't want me to give up. She wouldn't want me to give up. [She repeats it like a mantra, because if she doesn't keep saying it, the thought tries to slip away, stolen by this place.
She can picture Vi grabbing her by the arm, yanking her back towards the door, and she feels a sudden spike of anger that Vi was taken from her so soon, that she'll never feel Vi's touch again.
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She wouldn't want me to give up. She wouldn't want me to give up. [She repeats it like a mantra, because if she doesn't keep saying it, the thought tries to slip away, stolen by this place.
She can picture Vi grabbing her by the arm, yanking her back towards the door, and she feels a sudden spike of anger that Vi was taken from her so soon, that she'll never feel Vi's touch again.
She takes a step backwards, away from the grave.]