"I don't know," Jenny confesses, softer suddenly, feeling so much like the girl she's tried not to be. It's the first time she's ever actually admitted as much, if not to herself, then certainly out loud, Cameron being by far the easiest person she's found to talk to thus far. She hates it, how incredibly young she's sure it makes her seem when she wants little more than to be the opposite, but it can't be helped. With the subject at hand now, there's only so much pretending she can do, and anyway, this is, she thinks, the actual worst of it, the not knowing. If she had an answer one way or the other, it might all be a little easier, but she has nothing save for her imagination, and it's difficult, sometimes, not to look at that whole situation through a worst case scenario lens.

Glancing briefly at where his hand rests over hers, she draws in a breath. "It all seemed rather improbable, at the time," she continues, as if that alone could serve as an explanation. "And there's nothing I could do about it here, anyway." Her life in shambles, and her a world apart from any of it — it almost seems fitting after everything else, in the very worst sort of way.