It is one thing to fight for your own escape; that is instinct, and instinct runs out.

It is another thing entirely to learn that your own escape and a stranger’s rescue have become the same act, that the evidence which frees you is the same evidence which will free her, that you cannot save yourself without also unburying the woman he buried.

That knowledge did something to my tiredness.

It turned a private struggle, which I might eventually have grown too exhausted to continue, into something I could not in conscience put down, because putting it down now meant leaving Rowena in that clinic for the rest of her life.

You can abandon your own fight.