Someone more clever would have something to say, would know how to respond. How to deflect Zivia, reassure her in tones that sounded like agreement but really weren't at the core. But all her charisma and all her intelligence feel so, so far - stabbed open like her head and left to drain out. So instead she just looks away, feeling everything rolling around in her mind like so many marbles.

Until finally words come out, brittle ones.

"I...don't know what you want from me."