All thoughts of having a glass of whiskey to calm herself down temporarily forgotten, Lucy took a long sip of the juice he'd set in front of her, lips lingering on the cool edge of the cup for a moment even after she lowered her head again. It was nothing that she had so much as wanted to think about, what had almost been the case with her, leaving her now to wonder foolishly if Ryan still would have disappeared, if they would have had the family she'd never thought she wanted or if she would have been a single parent, the prospect of that admittedly frightening. None of it mattered, not now, but as it always was with this case, there were too many hypotheticals; she was grounded in facts and arguments, and here she had neither, leaving her frustratingly aimless with everything that happened. All she did know was that Jill and her baby were both gone, and she couldn't tell where to start dealing with that.

"No, it is," she said, utterly earnest, expression betraying more affection than she would let herself own up to. She had never wanted to start letting people back in again, and was unable to allow herself to fully own up to the fact that she had, that once again, she'd set herself up for more losses, each one more painful than the last. "It really is. I just... I get so sick of this, you know? Over and over, person after person, that I..." In an attempt to maintain composed, she balled her free hand up tightly only to relax again, exhaling slowly as she did. "It was better," she continued, voice more even, "it was. I know that. It just feels like every time I get close to someone, they're gonna be the next to go, and sometimes I just don't know if I can take any more."