They come back. [It's an all-too-casual admission, considering how heavy the subject matter is.] Or at least we do. The people who were born here don't get that same luxury.

[She should know. There's a brief flash of guilt across her face for a moment as she looks away, worrying at her lower lip for a second, before she looks back, smiling once more. It's all the vulnerability she's willing to show in front of him, this boy she's just met.]

Sometimes the bright side is a bit less bright than we'd like, but a place like this? I suggest you take what you can get, you never know when it's going to throw blood sacrifices at you.