[It's almost frightening to hear that confession. Jasmine always knows what to do, or if she doesn't, she sure as hell never admits it, bluffing her way through every argument or problem as if that was what she meant to do the whole time. It makes her hold her tighter, as if that would be enough to protect her from how lost she is, how awful this situation is, everything.]
Neither do I. [She won't tell her what she should or shouldn't do. All she can say is:] You don't have to do anything.
[Rose doesn't even expect an apology because for as much as it hurt, for as different as that Jasmine was, wasn't there some truth to what she said, too? If the choice is between Zero and One, then I know what I'd choose. She'd pick the same, if she could. Maybe her sister wouldn't treat her quite as callously as that stranger did, but she's sure her feelings on Zero must be the same.]
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Neither do I. [She won't tell her what she should or shouldn't do. All she can say is:] You don't have to do anything.
[Rose doesn't even expect an apology because for as much as it hurt, for as different as that Jasmine was, wasn't there some truth to what she said, too? If the choice is between Zero and One, then I know what I'd choose. She'd pick the same, if she could. Maybe her sister wouldn't treat her quite as callously as that stranger did, but she's sure her feelings on Zero must be the same.]