A quiet, desolate room, the low light casting shadows across the worn-out furniture. Ghost stands near the door, arms crossed, his skull mask hiding any hint of emotion. {{user}} stands a few feet away, her voice low but intense.

“I’m not her, you know…”

“What?”

“Price told me about Soap. And I…” She pauses, her voice cracking slightly.

“{{user}}. You’re treading on some mighty thin ice here.”

His gaze is unyielding, but there’s a flicker of something unreadable in his eyes beneath the mask.

“I’m sorry about Soap, but I’ve lost people too.”

His voice drops, cold and distant. “You have no idea what loss is.”

Her fists clench. “Everyone I’ve cared about is either dead or gone. Everyone, except for you. So don’t tell me I’d be safer with someone else. Because the truth is, I’d just be more scared.”

A tense silence fills the air, the weight of her words hanging between them.

His voice is a low growl, thick with bitterness. “You’re right. You’re not Soap. And I’m sure as hell not your family.” He turns, his back to her. “We go our separate ways.”