"Still pretty compassionate of you both. Plenty of people have been fucked over before, and they don't try to help other people fucked over like that," Clementine says in a practiced, tired sort of way. She doesn't know what to do with this caring. She doesn't know what to do with people giving a shit that- that. Her chest aches deeply with it, and she shifts, taking in a breath and turning so she doesn't look directly at him.

She slides a hand behind her neck.

"I don't know that there's any other choice." But to live with it. "But it means something if you're trying to stop it like Georgia is."

It means something even if she doesn't believe it will change a thing.