She 's barely slipped her door open when she hears Twilight.

'I can 't do it. '

It 's three in the morning. He 's sitting in the chair opposite her desk, staring blankly at the wall in front of him. She 'd only crept in to make some arrangements she 'd deemed necessary, but a swell of urgency surges through her. Swiftly, noiselessly, Sylvia shuts her office door behind her.

'I can 't kill her. '

His voice breaks, and Sylvia watches him fall apart in a distinctly un-Twilight-like manner, one chink in the armor disassembling the entire suit. The man in front of her drops his face into his palms, listing forward as all his weight falls into his hands.

'I never could. '