"There's no way to know how it will end," she murmurs. "I...I don't know what will happen if I go back."

Half of her--more than half, if she's being honest--doesn't really want to, because she knows that likes back that way for her. More tests, more prisoners, more dying. More of everything horrible that comes with war like fleas to a dog.

"I wonder if my father will come here. If I did, I don't know why he couldn't." And it would be bad if he did; more, really, far more than bad, but the enormity of disaster that would be is a little beyond even her capability to put into words.