This man is infuriating, but, she reminds herself, they are talking to a shadow. At best. This is still only a memory. She stands more firmly. “Doors can be closed.” She says, “and roots can be pulled up.” She spares a wink up at Eddy to clue him in, stroking the bladed knuckles of her cestus, readying herself.
“...And anyway, darling, you’re leaking.”

She lunges out to punch-slash at Burton Stupid Bland, because if she’s going to die here, she at least wants the first hit.