If nothing else were to come from this random encounter, Rip can take away this: for a moment, this girl had been offered understanding. She’d gone from a peak of angry frustration to a singular sound of release, and even a smile that might be considered genuine. Given that each of them stands a prisoner of their own minds, with thoughts trapped behind seemingly impenetrable barriers, any such relief stands as a blessing.

As Rip knows rather well; he’s already lost himself to the curse of the rage, simmering steadily beneath the surface. It’s why Jesse might notice the bruising on his jaw and a cut lip, delivered at the hands of a rather violent man whom Rip had punched first.

She’s determined to take what she sees as her share of the blame, but in the end it’s not so important. They’ve bumped into each other, apologized with silent gestures, and now they can move on. He glances on the path ahead; they aren’t so far from Caitlin’s door, although there is no clear sign of whether she’s in or not. Rip can only hope so, and he steps back to clear the way for Jesse and continue on his own.