“Drowning you didn’t mean the end to all versions of you,” she started, her voice shaking. “If that’s what it meant, I would have blinked out of existence along with you. There was only one you, one me, one Anna, and one Comstock. I tried to stop him from ever taking Anna, but I…” she trailed off and bit down on her lower lip, uncrossing her arms and wringing her hands in her anxiety.
“It isn’t a matter of you believing or not. I failed, and Anna died because of that. So when he ran away to Rapture, I followed the son of a bitch and I didn’t care who I hurt or used to make sure it was over for good. Sally paid the price for all of it. Comstock just wanted to save her, and I just wanted to use her to get rid of him.”
She leaned back further on the desk, pushing herself onto it so that it supported her where she knew her legs might not. It was an emotional thing, to not only be near her father again but to also confess all the things she’d done wrong. Elizabeth had felt this level of guilt before, but never had she expressed it in so many words to someone else. Neither of the Luteces understood or could fully empathise with her.
“This is exactly what I earned, Booker,” she said quietly. “Dying will never be enough to pay for what I did to Sally.”