[A pause.

[Something is calling her back to that room. She can’t place it.]

[Her gaze flickers to his lips. She can’t go further than that.]

[A rifle is so goddamn messy....]

Then help me face this. [Aubrey grabs his hand. Her palm has only lightly scabbed, and drips again at the contact. It’s a rough, soulless grip.] And then we’ll end it.

[She tries to take him to the door.]