As she began to touch the body with such tender sentimentality, Archer resisted the urge to groan. This wasn't a man they were talking about. This was meat. This was human meat, the excrement of the soul. Trenton wasn't in the room anymore. He was gone. They were left with the flesh and blood that he sat in while alive.
With an impatient sigh, he walked over to her, crouching before her and looking her straight in the eyes. "Isobel," he said softly. "Trenton is gone. He's dead. This?" He gestured to the body. "Isn't him. This is what he left behind. Respecting this will do nothing for him. If you want to preserve him, do it in your memory. But for now, there is a dead human body in your apartment and it's in your best interest for that to change."