Caring is a weakness. Jyn knows better than to say as much when she doesn't really even think so, but it's an old instinct, something that's been drilled into her head since she was a child, one of the first things she learned in Galen Erso's absence. Lincoln treats it differently, and though part of her appreciates it, she doesn't quite understand it. He's not wrong, though. She does care. More often than not, she's tried to pretend otherwise, but that's mostly been to cover the fact that she cares more than she thinks she should. Apathy is as good a shield as any, feigned or not.

It doesn't change the fact, though, that she doesn't think she's what her father would want her to be, violent and uneducated and rough-edged. She never joined the Alliance, except at the end, when she was really just fighting for herself anyway. She thinks sometimes about his hologram, the few words she remembers echoing in her head — if you're happy, Jyn — and knows she was never that. Not until she got here. He said himself that this is the kind of life he'd wanted for her, and it couldn't be further than anything she knew before Darrow.

"If he knew about me, about... the life I've had, I think that might be all he'd see," she admits, the quietness in her voice betraying how much Lincoln's words do mean to her. "But... But he's the one who left. If he wanted something else, he could have been there."