She practically clings to him, because that look of horror she saw on his face? It's proof that rationality still holds. That there are normal places where people - even people who have suffered awful things themselves - hear something like that and understand how wrong it is.

'Ask the others who came out of there,' she mutters, 'and half of them will tell you I should have known better or I deserved it, or some other dehumanising...' She trails off, blinks back her tears. 'You see it for what it is. I know you do.' She leans her head on his shoulder.

'I'm free now,' she says, her voice firmer. 'I'm free and I'm around people who don't treat horrific torture like it's acceptable and that means I can heal, right? It has to. I don't want to go home and be unfit. Tradelines don't like damaged goods.'