"I'm licensed. It's literally my fucking job!" She holds up her wrist, revealing the red and blue tattoo with her license number. "Alpha-Foxtrot-Bravo-one-seven-five-eight-nine-three. Class A-15. I'm not just allowed, I'm paid."

Clinging to technicalities doesn't really help, but it's what she has, and it lets her gather her thoughts a little.

"I didn't want anyone to get hurt. But I couldn't just back down because I was afraid, either. I would never have made it as a journalist with those kinds of instincts."