[ Jade's gaze remains locked on him while he speaks,though it softens from a glare to something between bewilderment and sympathy as he continues. It reminds her of the conversation she had with him months ago, where he had surprised her and-- she notices he's struggling not to cry, and her instinct is to hug, but she firmly stamps that out. Not now. ]

I'm sick of death. A lot of my friends have died here, and back home, and I don't want anything to do with it. I want to make things better here, but I don't think it's as simple as finding who's in charge and killing them. If we don't stay dead, why would they? You can say that the police thing was stupid, but it wasn't too me. Yeah, it might have been silly to think they would actually pick me, but I couldn't let that stop me from trying.

I know I'm not doing stuff that will get people out of here, and you probably don't see it, but what I do is try and make people happier. When they smile and laugh because I'm selling them cookies and have dog ears, maybe I'm making them feel a little bit better, or stronger, or cheered up, or anything! I think that's important too.