She looks down into her notebook, all half-started sentences and crossed out ideas.

"I do miss the simplicity," she says. "Or maybe that's the wrong word. The starkness of it all. There was the trail, and we followed it. There was the job, and we did it. However cruel the choices got to be. And whatever came next wasn't up to us."

It's an unhealthy thing to miss, she knows, and maybe she would apologize for it, if she was talking to anyone else.