It takes Maketh a moment to compose herself by the sink, hot water running over her hands. She stops before it can hurt. That's not the point of this, it's really not, she just finished explaining that to Rey. The point finally stuck.

She walks back into the living room, whiskey in hand, and sits down with her back against the couch. Rey needs watching. So it's practical. "You're not dying here. I won't allow it."