Instinctively, Jyn wants to pull away. Even with as untethered as she feels, though, in so many different ways, she has just enough sense not to. It's an old habit, one she'd stupidly thought mostly buried but coming back to the surface. Keeping people at arm's length is safer; it's how she's survived. If only she'd adhered to that here, if she'd been strong enough not to let her emotions get the best of her, she wouldn't be left now with this gaping chasm where her life used to be. Part of her hates it, that her first response is to regret what she had because she's lost it. Another part of her, though, is already building those walls back up again. If she could lose Cassian, then she could lose anyone. Lincoln may be sitting next to her apologizing, but for all she knows, he'll be next. It's an unfair line of thought, perhaps, but then, so is everything about this situation.

Although she tenses, she stays put, breathing through the overwhelming impulse to start crying. If she falls apart now, she has a feeling she'll never pull herself back together, and she can't let that happen, Saw's earliest lessons to her after she lost her parents echoing in her head. She's never been able to keep anyone in her life. There's no reason why she should have thought this time would be any different.

"I can't stay here," she says after a few moments' silence, her voice pitched low so it won't be too unsteady. Everything about this place suddenly feels different. She let herself settle, and she shouldn't have, because what was once the home she thought she'd finally found for herself is now empty and hostile. There's no reason for her to stay. "Can I sleep at your place tonight?"