"I know how to send a message, too." It's bitter, less fearful than it ought to be. She could take off but anger's getting the better of her, all that pent-up rage from being trapped in this world finally starting to catch up to her. Maybe the savior would snap, if not for Jefferson and how quickly he steps in to yank her back, pulling her away from the templars in a way that leaves her no choice but to rush after him.

She's not sure when he became the level-headed one out of the two of them, but this time, she might be grateful for it.