Yeah, if there was something she didn't have a bunch of experience with, well, it was guilt. She knew what it felt like around the edges, but not like this, like the whole world was ending and she was responsible for it. She didn't recognize the names or the faces, but she knew a hospital when she saw one (though it was another one of those things that didn't have a lot of emotional resonance - no one ever died in the drive-bys).
The guilt lingered after the memory ended, and she cradled her head in her hands and dragged work-dirty fingers through her hair. Fucking Las Vegas. As if shit wasn't bad enough.
Still, it wasn't bad enough to make her panic. Compared to the shit at the hotel, this felt like nothing. She closed her eyes, and she breathed as steadily as she could. A few fucking memories? She could handle that.