[She takes it gingerly, runs her thumb over her own name, stares at it. Answers, maybe. Something. She wants it so badly, and she is so afraid. She holds it to her chest.]
You don't need it back, right? You're artificial, you'll remember it anyway.
[If she can keep it, she can stall, for a little while.]
[spam]
You don't need it back, right? You're artificial, you'll remember it anyway.
[If she can keep it, she can stall, for a little while.]