[Ziggy keeps the sharp wooden debris firmly gripped in her hands, tight enough that she can feel the unpleasant sting of splinters in the side of her hand. But his words at least sound — human. Tommy, he hadn't even spoken after what happened. He had just lost everything about him. Just like... all those other killers. The man who had stabbed her over and over, did he have any shred left of himself? No, she imagines he didn't. Not with the witch in his mind; nothing would have fixed any of them; nothing would have saved her, or Alice, or Cindy.
She looks at the gun at her scraped knee, eyes shadowed with dread.]
I... I killed someone.
[Looking distantly past Kovacs, her gaze falls on the man dead on the floor near the entrance. A terrible realization floods her, leaves her feeling icy cold, and her voice has a lost, guilt-ridden disbelief trembling through it.]
no subject
She looks at the gun at her scraped knee, eyes shadowed with dread.]
I... I killed someone.
[Looking distantly past Kovacs, her gaze falls on the man dead on the floor near the entrance. A terrible realization floods her, leaves her feeling icy cold, and her voice has a lost, guilt-ridden disbelief trembling through it.]
... I killed him...