It wasn't the sound of her voice as she said it, but the sentences themselves. They were desperate. He relented, only a little, and only to give her a reason to try.
Taking a step back, he held the note out into her frame of sight and let her read the words.
"I wished that you could live in the form you identify as your own," he said. "The girl on my couch. That's you."
He set the note back under his arm and slid his hand into the pocket of his pants, finding his phone but leaving it there for the moment.
"I need you, Oswin. I need your help. But before you can give it..." He raised his eyebrows.