[ Distraught. She'd thought she'd imagined that little feeling upon waking, that... strange, unsettling stir. Robyn swallows, looking increasingly more puzzled and nearly concerned as she reflects on it. ]

I can imagine a number of things that would make her distraught to remember.

[ Where to even begin, with the past year or so of her life being... what it was? ]

I'm touched that you're so worried about me, Anders. [ She says lightly, with a smile that doesn't quite reach her eyes. ] It... may be that I felt strange earlier. You think this is because of the jar, then? Of the memory?