She looked up at him, so confused. So lost. Hope was at war with the defensiveness she had always needed to survive. If she shed it, and hope was betrayed... what would she have left?

Losing Ben again would hurt more than anything she'd ever felt. More than losing Lydia. More than going back to the Isle.

"But... what if... I'm not the right me...?" she whispered. "What... I don't remember any of that, Ben. What if that's a different me, a different Mal. In her room or something right now.... And then you are.. are stuck with two of us...?"