[It's very unnerving to hear this woman take her apart, like she knows her or could read her mind and history. For a moment Elizabeth wonders if this was someone she knew before the accident, but that couldn't be if she'd admitted to not knowing her face or voice. The slow and careful exposure of everything she's been worrying about, everything that was eating away at her before the Moira, it yanks her brave mask away and leaves her looking scared. She doesn't know who this woman is, but she talks about Elizabeth with too much accuracy for it to be comfortable.]
no subject
...who are you?