She sat there and stared at him as he spoke, not sure what else to do. Tears were still poiring down her cheeks, but she didn't even wiping them away. "Oh, yeah, my life's over, I'm dead, let's fucking celebrate." she spat out. She couldn't imagine being okay with this, being happy that she was dead. And then something crossed her mind, "What about you? You said I told you to go away....and that woman was talking about a lot of other stuff...is there anything else you need to tell me, Tate? Because if there is, you need to do it now. Come clean right now, about everything."
Thinking over that woman's words made her shudder. She spoke in broken, kind of mixed of sentences, but she sure as hell got her point across. The idea of that being true, of Tate being the one that did these horrible things, it was too much and she wasn't even sure if she could handle it right now, but she needed to know. She needed to know everything he had been hidin from her, even if it meant she'd never want to see him again.