Jon is quiet for a long, tense moment. He doesn't recall a time Jean's ever called him by only his name. Honestly, if they'd used his full name in the scolding tone of a disappointed parent, it may have stunned him less than this. Maybe he wouldn't have to fight off a welling sense of shame to find his words.

"Sasha was one of my archival assistants, back in the Institute," He replies, carefully choosing each word. "She was... one of my most trusted assistants. She always knew where to look to get what we needed for any given follow-up, and she was exceptional at what she did. If I needed something and I needed to be certain it would be done correctly, Sasha was my first choice. She was... insightful, quick-witted, and dedicated. I wasn't exactly sociable, I'll be honest with you, but we were friendly enough. I had a great deal of respect for her."

Saying all of this out loud is so much worse, so much more impersonal, than he could've ever imagined it'd be. It's no wonder the thing that was not Sasha evaded his notice for so long. He grasps for anything else he could say, but he falls short of finding anything else at all. It's glaringly obvious that he didn't really know her.