Sarah's eyes close, willing herself not to cry anymore.

She hates crying, but she finds fresh, new tears roll down her cheeks all the same.

"Yeah, I think maybe I do," she admits. She doesn't know how she gets the words out. She pushes them out of her throat like one would glass. She hates admitting she needs that space; that she can't simply fall back into the way they were and have everything be okay again, when it's what she wants more than anything. But right now, it may not be what she needs.

Because being here in this room with him, the two of them, it's felt like they're both suffocating. She wants so badly to help Jeremy, but she knows she can't do that until she fights for herself, first. Until she fights for her right to live and not die.

"You couldn't have known what would happen, Jeremy," she says, the words still thick and suffocated in her throat. He couldn't have known the tattoo would activate. He couldn't have known where it would lead. He just didn't want to be powerless anymore. If anyone understands that, it's Sarah.