It's probably somewhat hypocritical, Jyn knows, to wish that he would believe what she says about him but completely fail to understand how he can hold her in such high regard. If anything, the conversation they've just had seems like proof that he shouldn't. No kind person would say the things she said to him, for the reasons she said them. They definitely wouldn't wait nearly a year and a half and only bring it up then by accident. She doesn't want to start talking in circles, though, and she doubts that any amount of reassurance will convince her that taking this on isn't crazy. Knowing that he thinks it isn't will have to be enough.

"I made Lincoln promise to tell me if he thinks I'm terrible at it," she says, "so there's that, at least." That vote of confidence helps, too, as much as anything can. Short of Cassian, of course, Lincoln is the person here she trusts the most. She thinks they're both crazy, but it is, as least, nice to know that the people who mean the most to her think well of her. As dishonest as it feels, she would much rather they be wrong and like her than they be right and write her off entirely, well within his rights as Cassian would have been to do so.

She can't let herself keep thinking about that, though, can't wonder how much damage she did by reinforcing what he already believed about himself. She'll drive herself crazy, and she won't be able to let it go, and neither of them needs that.

Instead, she seizes on something Cassian has just said, the implication in that unearned trust. "You know," she adds, "you might want to reconsider always believing me, or you'll have to believe what I say about you."