This time, Rey does slide out of the chair she's in. Not to leave, but to move closer, resituating herself at the end of the couch Maketh's in. She sits there, rigid, shoulders squared, jaw tight as she stares at the empty space ahead of her rather than at Maketh herself.

"Things wouldn't have been better." Despite the hardness of her posture and mien, her words are soft. "They just wouldn't hurt anymore. Dying is easy -- one minute everything hurts, and then, it's all gone. Living is agony."

And yet some people choose to live in fear, whether they want it or not.

She then casts Maketh a sidelong look. "Whatever happened, they were probably right."

That it wasn't her fault. That they didn't blame her. Even if they did, it doesn't matter anymore. They're gone and she's still here, as is Rey.