[She walks in and turns, looking around the bizarrely meticulous room and not seeing any sign of the man she's still instinctively looking for. Not having an excuse to call this whole thing off leaves her feeling curiously empty, so that it almost comes as a relief. If the issue were muddled, this would be even harder to solve.

This is a simple solution. Clean. Inhuman. She's doing the hard thing when nobody else will.

But this is a scene, so she acts for him: perfectly in-character, even coloring it with shades of honesty in the emptiness of her expression and the unhappiness showing through.]

I want to talk, Sam. I've heard everyone else talk about you in your... condition, but not you.

[She sits down on the bed and looks to him, wondering if he'll bite. Hoping the talk will give her some glimpse that the real Sam is in here, and give her an out from this. God, it's so hard to keep buttoned-up about it. She can't completely hide it- her, with her impressive lying ability.

Truth be told, the pain and worry showing through make her believable. It makes her look a little plaintive under the businesslike mannerisms.]

I want to hear it in your own words.