She sets her mug down, because her hands are shaking.

'No. He stole him. You saved Summers, and he was -- he wasn't even one of us.' She remembers now, in those moments before she was hit. He held Summers while he died, spoke to him, reminded him of who he was.

Her eyes close and she pinches the bridge of her nose.

'Louise wasn't... She chose her path.'

That much is obvious now.