[It’s strange, looking up at Obi-Wan to such a degree, and looking at a face so very different. Looking at her employer’s face. She finds herself missing his beard. She closes the door behind him. Having him there, within view, is reassuring.]
I’m sorry, Obi-Wan.
[That there’s nothing she can do for him, nothing she can do to help ease his sense of loss, weighs on her. But she will still try to do something; she can at least attempt to stave off the worst of his despondence. It... worries her. She covers the hand he uses to tentatively touch her shoulder with her own, curling her fingers around his.]
I’m here. And I’m not going anywhere. I promise.
[She knows her words, fierce though they may be, are nothing, can do nothing to change the fact that he can’t sense her, can’t sense anything. But she means them.]