[ South's uncharacteristically... small. She's slumped, her splinted hand falling to rest carefully in her lap. She's not looking at him head on. After their last actual conversation, she doesn't know how to talk to him, let alone how to say this. ]

...Delta told me something. The other day. Or, well [ snort ] he told York, I guess. Whatever. About the Project. About what they were doing to us.