"No," Sookie shook her head, her voice cracking with the very effort that it took to stand, the scrapbook slipping from her lap and falling to the floor, where it fell open to reveal a couple of victims, photos haphazardly pasted to the pages. She paid it no notice, instead keeping her gaze fixed on Mitchell, no matter how painful it was. "No, Mitchell, this isn't you, this isn't— you made a mistake. You were hurt, and you'd just lost so many people you cared about, it's not somethin' you would have done if she hadn't, if Lucy hadn't—"

Taking a step forward, Sookie held out a hand, as though to reach for Mitchell, as though a kiss could fix it, as though a simple touch to the back of his neck could bring him down from all that anger, all that bottled energy, help him to take a step back. But he only shook his head, stepping further away, and Sookie came to a sudden halt in the middle of the room, nothing to hold onto, only a chill which remained on her skin.

"You tried to save them. People, vampires, everyone. You tried to do a good thing, and— that's the kind of person you are, Mitchell, the person that I love, and I'm— I'm sorry, okay? Can't we just calm down? Let's not fight, let's just... figure out what to do."