[Seneca pales, but it quickly becomes clear that she isn't able to argue. The thought of watching this woman die from her is so upsetting, it can't be real. So many things in Seneca's life are unreal, there has to be a limit. When can she just be a normal person?]
[She holds the pan tight, her knuckles going white. She's happy to be distracted, happy to focus on the window.] Yeah. Can you?
no subject
[She holds the pan tight, her knuckles going white. She's happy to be distracted, happy to focus on the window.] Yeah. Can you?