Yeah, this is going to suck, she tells herself, standing on James porch as he comes to the door. He looks...well, like James always looks: like someone has replaced his coffee with lead. Except this time, Moira knows, he has a very good reason for looking like that. Motherfucker, maybe she didn't think this through.

"I realize I'm probably the last person you want to see right now," she says, glancing down at the ground before bringing her gaze back up to meet his. "And I don't blame you. But I wanted to apologize and to talk, if you'd be willing to hear me out."