[She freezes, her back to him. Of all the people who could have found her here, Sam is just about the worst-- trumped only by Simon, maybe. She exhales, setting down the clipboard she'd found-- supply notes, mostly, proof that Janine was a painfully organized person. She turns towards the door, folding her arms across her chest to close herself off pre-emptively. She doesn't have a good excuse, none that she imagines will be good enough for Sam, but already she feels the need to defend herself.]
no subject
Sam, hey, I--
[She sighs.]
I'm sorry.