Kenzie listened to his explanation and his initial explanation of why he was there seemed to make more sense. He was labouring under a delusion, she thought, one that rendered...teddy bears...monsters. It was a strange thing to contemplate. She believed that he believed what he was saying, and that was enough. She didn't need to disabuse others of their delusions, that was what therapy was for.<br/><br/>"I'd prefer to find out that I was willing to kill them," she said, "otherwise, I'd be out of my own control, and I'd rather be a murderer with amnesia than lose control of myself."<br/><br/>It came along with the territory of radical honesty that she shared her deeply personal insights in such a short conversation with someone she barely knew, but she didn't mind, she felt better for it, and always had, or she never would have taken up that particular conviction. She believed in it as a way to live her life.<br/><br/>"Thank you, for coming to get me," she said, "I owe you one. We should probably head back, now, I think."