Yeah, like destroying myself would fucking matter when I'm going to be dead in a few months anyway.

[ Even she thinks that's harsh, she realizes, grimacing as she says it. Cassandra can't look at him- she stares into the distance, putting one hand on the back of her neck. All of this is obvious; not really something she hid. She'd just tried to keep much of it quiet. And it's not often people directly point out what she's doing to herself. ]

It's the only way we're going to find everything out. I can't just stop. Why would I?