Evelyn needed space. After spending a week at the mansion while the riots raged onward, she did everything she could to maintain her sanity. She drew, she colored, she painted, she talked to people; heck, she even snuck out a few times and got herself in a mess of trouble. But even with those scratches fading away, the emotions she had to deal with were too much to try to handle there at the school. She wasn't content, and she didn't really know where she stood. Sleep deprived, confused, she uncertain, she phoned a cab with her cell phone and got a ride back into the city.

It was late, darkness had taken over most of the streets and when she exited the cab in front of her apartment it was hard to believe this was what she had called 'home'. The streets were still in disrepair, her own building would need windows replaced, and the door pushed open without a key needing to unlock it. The inside was as depressing as she remembered. Nothing seemed to have escaped unscathed on the bottom story, and going to her room, she started sifting through her closet to save what she could. A duffel bag was filled with clothing, bathroom supplies, her hairbrush and a few drawings that weren't completely shredded. Her desk had survived, thankfully, but that could stay for the moment. If she made the decision to be at the mansion then maybe she could have it in her room. Until then, she would make do without.

A bookshelf in the corner held several of her favorite novels. Some had been knocked around, but none seemed ruined. Plopping several first editions into the bag, she started for the door and into the street, securing the apartment behind her. But the cab driver was nowhere to be seen. Sighing, she started down the street, fiddling with her phone to try to get a signal. Then she froze as she passed a manhole cover, the echoes picking up on something peculiar.

Sylar was a creature of opportunity, an ambush predator wearing a person's flesh. Something big had been going on in the world above, and though he'd spent much of that time staying in the shadows, in the aftermath he'd been using the time to ransack certain stores and buildings for food, to replenish what little stocks he kept in his hideouts in the sewer systems. He gathered up some various foods, chips, candy, bread. With a bag stuffed with light weight hand foods, he'd fled down a man hole into his network of tunnels he called home. The manhole hadn't quite fit back into the slot, leaving a bit of space into the world above, a bit of light streaking down onto his form, unbeknownst to the Boogieman.

Finished with his hunt, Sylar crept along the tunnel, his obsidian claws clacking against the stone, creating a familiar echo as he navigated through the dark. There was a junction a block or so away, and that was where he'd bunk down and eat. The tunnels amplified the sounds of his movement, the claws scraping against the stone, a bag sometimes dragging and other times rustling against his dirty form. All this movement, this faint marker of a creature in the sewers was unnatural to any who might hear it.

The sound grew fainter as he made his way to the end of this tunnel, turning left and heading deeper into the labyrinth that existed beneath the streets of New York. Normally a speedy timid individual, with no one around, and his catch in hand, Sylar crawled through his home at a slower speed, enjoying his return trip to his makeshift next in the dank underbelly of society.

The manhole cover had been moved, and the little street-light there was glimmered down the stairwell into the sewers. Normally, Evelyn would have kept walking, but then the echoes decided to note something else.

[Shuffling movement, clatter of objects against sewer walls.] Something was down there. A wiser person would have run, but Evelyn was curious, and she reached down, gave a firm tug on the cover, and widened the opening. Curiosity: it was her fatal flaw. The echoes tell you there is trouble? Let's go look closer!

Perhaps there was some truth to Talon's accusation of her self-destructive tendencies...

Darkness flickered with little bits of light, and nothing immediately stood out. Adjusting her bag, Evelyn grasped the stairs and started to climb downward, holding tightly to the rungs until she made it to the bottom. She sewer smells occasionally wafted through the tunnels, potent and putrid to her nose. She paused long enough to pull some gloves, a handkerchief and a flashlight out of her bag then closed it, strapping it onto her back like a camping backpack. The handkerchief was pulled across her nose and mouth, the faded black gloves were placed on hands, and then she finally decided to pull her hair back into a ponytail. Above her head, the echoes picked up on the sounds of the occasional car moving through the streets. Hopefully the sewer system was still stable. She'd hate for something to cave in down here.

[Movement, migrating towards the right branch of tunnels.] Evelyn started forward, footsteps quiet as she did. She was wise enough to pause at intake locations so the stray flush of the toilet didn't send sewage into her face. It was like another world down here of tunnels and mazes, the ceilings low confined. While the smell was something awful, the adrenaline kept her going. Sherlock Holmes would have loved to solve the mystery of something lurking in the sewers.

A rustle further ahead made her slow in confusion. She recognized that sound pattern, and her brain sifted through what it remembered until the information came forward. Why would something in the sewers have a bag of chips?.

Was something living here?

Above ground, Sylar was always alert, cautious, and mildly agitated from having to expose himself to the world. But down here, in the sewers, he was in his element. The dark concealed his form, and the constricted network of tunnels was a maze for anyone who couldn't navigate properly. He'd spent years learning every inch of the sewers, which spots were safe and which were active for city workers. Most people couldn't and didn't want to track him, afraid of what he was, and unable to follow what tracks he left behind. The putrid stench of the sewer masked his own scent well, and the darkness concealed the claw marks he'd cut into the stone when running or climbing, meaning that anyone who did come down here, would be entirely at a disadvantage against the Predator of Manhattan.

Unaware that a rather gifted detective was on his trail, Sylar continued toward his lair, a circular junction where a few tunnels merged together at a pool of water. Not something you'd like to drink, but it kept the temperature in the area cooler, meaning he could sleep comfortably here. His trail of sounds grew dimmer as he made his way into the junction, exchanging them for a bit of rustling as he moved about some old clothes, and stored a few different food items in hiding spots. His senses were keen, but with very little air movement in the sewer, it could take awhile for a new scent to permeate, and quiet steps echoed poorly. For now, he was unaware of a guest in his home.

However as he settled in, something seemed off. His ears buzzed softly with a faint noise, possibly footsteps? Though they were too light to be any of the usual suspects, perhaps he was mistaking the noise for something else down here. Sometimes the wind blowing through a grate, or some old piece of metal rusted off and fallen. Either way, he left his stash of snacks, and turned to the wall behind them, digging his knife like fingers into the stone, and then his toes, all of which were sturdy razor sharp claws, holding fast in the old mortar. He clambered up the wall a bit, his form vanishing into the shadows created by the curved ceiling, leaving behind no trace of the Boogieman, save for the shallow movement of his chest as he breathed.

Evelyn kept walking, her curiosity outweighing the feelings of fear the sewer system gave her. Whoever was down here couldn't be too large--the walls wouldn't fit anything to gigantic--but the way there was a subtle clatter she couldn't pinpoint. Weapons? Claws? Either could be bad news, and she forced herself not to turn on the flashlight yet. It was dark, but the sounds reverberated in many directions, leading her quiet footsteps onward. She used to navigate in the dark to avoid waking up Jensen and get out of the house, and this was almost like that game.

Finally, the tunnels widened, and the pool had a smell that made her breathe catch in her throat. In the darkness, she couldn't make out much, but the echoes pointed out the soft sound of breathing...

...above her head.

Curiosity melted into fear and the flashlight came on, jerking up above her head. She wasn't sure whether she should run yet, but the light momentarily sent dots across her vision, making it impossible to tell what she'd shown it on.

The faint sound finally got close enough for Sylar to clarify what it was. It was steps, but unlike most people who stomped about either from urgency or fear, these were light, barely audible even to his superhuman ears. However, now that they'd gotten this close, Sylar let his instincts turned on, his form shrinking against the ceiling as he waited in ambush. A form entered his lair, small and light in frame. A woman, distinguished by her smaller frame and lighter temperature. His thermal sight ingrained with a target, Sylar waited but a moment to judge her intent.

He might have been surprised by her flashlight, if he wasn't blind, but in the moment Evelyn looked up, Sylar released the grip in his hands and pushed with his feet against the stone. His monstrous form leapt down towards the girl. His intent was to pin her against the floor, eliminating any threat she might pose before she had a chance to even think. He had no idea who she was or why she had come into his home, but all that mattered was the things hiding in the dark usually didn't want to be found, and that was Sylar's preference. His claws were spread shoulder width apart, each aiming to pin one of her shoulders down without tearing into her flesh, while his body would follow suit, pinning her stomach to the ground, leaving her helpless and his tail available if needed.

Evelyn only had a moment to try and react, and most people had no idea how to respond when a monster was assaulting you from the dark. His hands found her shoulders, forcing her backward with both strength and momentum, throwing her shoulders towards the ground with a thud. His body rested atop her, his face hidden somewhat beneath the folds of his hood, only a terrifying hissing noise escaping his lips before he spoke. "Who are you, Why'd you follow me?" He growled at her, voice thick with violent intent. His goal was to intimidate her and knock any fight she might have had in in her out to be replaced by fear. His tail curled forward like a scorpions, and held fast behind his form, the obsidian blade glinted against what light there was.

In hindsight, Evelyn should have left her flashlight in the bag. It did nothing but blind herself, and then the shadow on the wall can flying down and hit her before she could react. Her frame slammed into the ground with a painful crash, and she yelped slightly as her back hit rocks. The duffel bag she had been carrying rolled to her right, the flashlight clattered to the left, and the light glimmered off the figures intimidating form.

Holy sewer monster...

The echoes picked up on the curling tail, at first mistaking the tip for a knife, then realizing it was a bladed tip. Her shoulders throbbed slightly with prickles of pain, but she forced the echoes to abandon their assessment of possible injury and focus on her attacker. The silhouette curled into his figure, but something seemed... off. His posture seemed surprisingly human, and when the wind finally returned to Evelyn's lungs she gasped and tried to speak up.

"I was waiting for my cab, I-" She struggled for a breathe again and continued. "I heard noises and I followed them." Her echoes skimmed his figure, identifying different areas of his right arm and left shoulder that seemed to be shaped differently under his clothing. He wasn't completely a sewer monster... But he sure was a mutant.

She tried to move her head, but her ponytail was under her back, and that limited her movement. The white locks were going to be filthy after this, and she didn't even want to know what she was lying in.

She made sure the echoes didn't have a chance to tell her.

Sylar's body was light weight, mostly from malnutrition and being a smaller individual, however the strength he could put out was immense, meaning he could overpower the girl at any time, a fact he quickly gathered from his ambush on her. He paid no attention to the sounds of her bag and flashlight as they were thrown away, focusing all of his senses on her. Each one reading Evenlyn like a book, looking for any ques that spelled danger. He continued to bore holes into her with his dead eyes, hidden from her sight as he listened to her response. He showed no physical response, but in his thoughts he quickly squashed her words. What person delves into the sewers simply because they heard something? It's a dark putrid place, and anything you'd hear down there had to be dangerous. The illogical curiosity bothered him.

The pressure on her shoulders let up a bit, Sylar identifying the girl as no real threat, however he did not let her up or remove himself from pinning her. "That's stupid, nobody runs off into the dark after noises they heard. I don't buy it." He growled, his mind trying to figure out what her true motive might be. The city had been a little crazy recently, but he'd made no big ruckus while that happened, staying hidden during it all. So nobody should be looking for him, and she couldn't be one of the few police officers that still came hunting for him, at least she didn't feel like one. His nose wrinkled in the dark, making a slight huff noise as he took in her scent. She smelled like your average girl, nothing surprising or unusual. And her form looked normal as well. Was she really just curious and followed him without thinking about the danger?

He tilted his head slightly to the left, looking up for a moment and focusing his hearing on the noises in the tunnels. Nothing but the usual gurgle of nasty water, or scampering of a rat. She was alone. He spoke again, with a somewhat more subdued tone. "What's wrong with you girl, the dark is full of things that could kill you. Chasing Boogiemen will get you hurt." Sylar was unsure of what to do now, this girl had followed him to a hideout, meaning it had to be abandoned, plus this meant a normal girl had been foolish enough to chase him in the dark. He'd thought all his time above ground scaring people as the Predator would keep this from happening. He'd have to scare her pretty good to keep her from leading anyone else down here on a monster hunt. Lost in his own thoughts for a second, his form let up on Evelyn, giving her a chance to breath beneath him.

As Evelyn's eyes finished adjusting, she could more clearly make out the 'monster'. His face seemed mostly human underneath the hood, but the eyes were strange, the blood vessels unnaturally dark and the rest empty white. He had to be fairly young, if she could judge anything from his height and build. It was hard to tell with mutants, especially considering she had run into age shifters.

The echoes picked up on his distrust, some of his body language that of a human, a bit more animalistic in nature. She frowned at his remark, and glared up at him. "Hey, it's not that dumb! My...who carries chips into the sewer? I heard them." She tried not to talk about the voices in her head. That would not help her case right now. Here she was, being pinned down by a sewer monster, and she was worried what he thought about her powers... "You weren't exactly being careful about who heard you. The manhole cover was up, and you weren't so hard to follow..." Then he sniffed her. Why was he sniffing her? [Scent.] Oh, that would make more sense. She wondered what her scent smelt like... probably like a pampered show dog, obviously not someone who would typically be lying on their back in the sewer...

As he moved, she watched the flick of his head movements as he tilted his ears towards different areas of the tunnels. She didn't have the hearing he did to know what he was listening for, but she could see a flicker of concern pass his features. "I've chased worse than the boogyman. If anything is going to get me hurt, it's curiosity. I'm not scared of things that go bump in the night. And you don't have to worry your pretty little head about me. I'm not going to go pin flyers up on the street corner telling everyone you live her. I just wanted to know why a bag of chips was moving through the sewers."

She wriggled slightly as he loosened his hold on her, letting the air return to her lungs. Her belongings were too far out of reach to grab, and she didn't have much else to do but wait for him to decide if she was dangerous or not. Apparently, he seemed to think she was just dangerously stupid.

Feeling secure in that she seemed to be all on her own down here, as well as no threat to himself, Sylar calmed from his "predator" mode into a more normal state. He still didn't know what he'd do with her, but he'd rather not kill some girl and have to deal with any repercussions that might have. Though while he was thinking on how to scare her into keeping these events a secret, she had the courage to talk back to him! He was taken back a bit, his face showing only the faintest hint of his surprise. "Not that dumb? I'm a violent monster who lives in the sewers lady, and most people KNOW to be afraid of that! And do you feel how wet it is down here? Chips are the only thing that keep for any amount of time!" Suddenly his voice was much softer and boyish, her words having sort of goaded him into agitation, though more of a teenage agitation than an animalistic one.

She pointed out he'd left behind more than enough clues for her to follow him, and sadly that was a valid point. It'd been awhile since anyone came looking for him, instead of him stumbling onto people like he'd done a few times in the recent past. He'd have to cover his tracks better if this girl was able to read them. "Yeah well the city was pretty hectic lately so most people didn't notice anything. Next time there won't be a trail." He growled, a confirmation more for himself than her. However more than her ability to argue with a sewer dwelling monster man, Sylar found himself bothered by her insight into how he was thinking.

He stared at her, unsure of how she managed to read him like she'd just done. "How'd...how'd you know what I was worried about?" Maybe she'd just gotten really luck with a guess, or knew him a bit from his tabloid articles, but either way she'd hit the nail on the head with her words. Or maybe she was some kinda mind reader. "Who are you? A cop? Some kinda mind reader mutie? I still don't buy that you're just a cat sticking your nose where it doesn't belong." Even if she was just some curious nobody, he couldn't just let her go, not when she knew he was down here, hanging around the sewers in this area. "If, and I mean if I let you go, how could I be sure you wouldn't bring others down here. If you're so curious I'm not going to just let you up to go running to some paper. Curiosity isn't always healthy lady, and neither is your lack of fear. I could kill you ya know, rip your throat out, or..." His sentence didn't finish with words, but the sound of his tail striking forward into the stone, the blade digging a nice little chunk out. He was trying to sound scary again, but she'd already thrown him off his game a bit, and his words and form showed a lack of total determination.

The echoes picked up on the surprise that passed across the teen's face, and she was relieved it didn't transform into anger. The last thing she needed was to get beaten up and thrown back into the mansion again. She was going to get babysat until she was fourty if that happened. But then it vanished, and he tried to look tough again, which led her to believe part of his intimidation was just a front. She wasn't in real danger yet, and the fear melted away. "A violent monster that lives in the sewers? You look more like a kid with a mutation who is hanging out down here munching on chips. Maybe you could do some damage to me if you wanted, but you don't strike me as the murderous rage sort. At least, not intentionally." She scanned his face and tried to look for a flicker of response. It was hard for the echoes to work in the dark like this...

"And I think you're just making excuses. The city is in shambles, and you leave a trail? I would think it would be the opposite." She wasn't one to really judge though. She did try to play detective down in the sewers after a 'monster'. One who still had her pinned, nonetheless. She resisted talking more on that subject, and then he asked another question.

Well...busted...

"Your facial expressions. They give you away. I'm not a mind reader, I'm not a cop, I work at the museum for crying out loud. The average day at work I get to feel accomplished if I catch a counter-fit painting. And you can ask anyone who knows me: being nosy is my specialty." It came across with a mixture of guilt and bragging. She wasn't really sure if it was a good thing she was nosy. Probably not, but in this particular instance it was better than the other assumptions he could have.

"Besides, who would believe me if I said I was wandering around in the sewers? You seem to think it's ridiculous I'm here. Won't others feel the same? And you probably could rip out my throat... but then you'll have a body to deal with, and blood to clean up, and you probably won't be able to live in the same place anyway because you murdered me which would defeat the purpose of protecting your secret." His tail made her flinch slightly, but it was more out of surprise than anything else. She had established he was deadly. But she also had established he was still very human in his nature.

Evelyn seemed to have an exceptional ability to agitate Sylar on a level he wasn't very used to. It was like all of his actions provoked the opposite reaction in the girl. He'd have to really get some practice in again at scaring normal people. Her staunch defiance in the face of his show however kept him a bit unnerved. The last thing a predator wanted was to face something that wasn't afraid of them. "You happened upon my lair, that's all. Most people up top know my reputation and what i'm capable of." He had hoped to spook Evelyn into simply running off after he got up never to bother him again, but her growing boldness was really starting to irk him. "And maybe i'm not the murderous sort, but you're really pushing it lady."

His tail pulled back from the floor, bits of rock falling about as he unsheathed it from the stone. The weapon had lost none of it's gleam, and quickly moved back into a position to suggest a strike. She had a point, generally he was exceptional at leaving no trail from his raids. Maybe he'd grown lax over the past few months. "You got lucky is all." He stated with a bit of annoyance, unaware that Evelyn's astute observational skills were a bit beyond the average person and may have helped her pick up on the subtle cues that lead to this encounter.

So according to her, she really was just a nosy girl poking around where she shouldn't be. At least that meant nobody else was after him, or that she couldn't know all of his inner thoughts, even if she'd been surprising able to read him. It reminded him of a previous encounter in the sewers, though this time she'd come to him instead of the other way around. She had some guts to be proud of being so nosy that she'd stumbled onto an urban legend. Sylar wasn't half bad at reading body language himself, and he'd realized the girl's boldness wasn't going to falter at more empty threats. He leaned back a bit, removing his hands from her shoulders, instead crouching over her and giving her a bit of space to move away.

His face became stoic and serious, losing what little hints of surprise she'd been able to pick up on earlier. "I don't know that it's ridiculous, but I think it's poor judgment." He responded, perhaps she wasn't a native of Manhattan, or she didn't listen to rumors. Either way she'd never heard of him, or at least didn't buy into the rumors of him attacking people in the night or hunting animals. "You're pretty bold to pick an argument with a sewer monster lady. After all, whose to say I couldn't just eat your body after I killed you?" He said, forcing a grin and revealing the metallic sheen of his hardened fangs and teeth. However this statement wasn't a threat like his earlier words, right now it was more matter of fact.

He stared at her for a moment, gauging how she'd respond to the situation now that he'd backed off a bit. She could try to run, and he might let her, but this standoff had kind of reached a stalemate with Sylar unsure of whether to get seriously violent or simply knock her out and leave her above ground a few blocks away. "So you found a sewer mutant. What now museum girl?"

Most people know my reputation... The echoes started digging through her memories before she could stop them. Snippets of conversation were drawn forward, fragments of photos, hushed rumors in the streets. Sure, there had been talk of a monster in Manhattan, but when there were mutants out and about, that was hard to peg to one individual. Was he really deadly, or taking credit for someone else's actions? Part of her believed he could be deadly. But as she already said, she didn't think he did it on purpose.

"Reputations are fragments; part truth, part fiction. People create a monster because they want one. I don't think you want to be a monster is all I'm saying." The echoes kept skimming, bringing up headlines she'd seen passing the streets, searching for something to make her point. But there was too much information to sort through without sleeping or sitting and meditating. The last thing she wanted to do was close her eyes and rest with the threat of having her throat ripped out still hanging over her.

He kept talking though, trying to turn the conversation around. Evelyn kept up and refused to let it slide though. "Sitting and being afraid forever doesn't get you anywhere. I could as easily die having you kill me as I could having a car careen off the road and strike me. Life is full of danger, and I think facing it head on is better than sitting and waiting for it to come to you. You may think it's poor judgement, but you haven't eaten me yet." His grin was a little disconcerting through. The teeth reminded her of knives and that managed to get a small shiver down her spine, emphasizing the crowing bruises that would appear there. Then finally, he moved to let her up, and she wriggled to the side, getting to her knees and pulling her duffel bag and flashlight over. Rather than shining the light on him though, she flicked it off, and stood slinging the bag across her back. She forced herself not to flinch.

"Well, I don't know if there really is a 'what now'. I find a sewer mutant. That's what I was looking for. At least that time you worded it right. You're not a monster, not really. I do know your reputation, and I also know one of the last stories they ran on you. Helped a little girl, didn't you?" The echoes had finally honed in on the correct headline, and she took a more defensive stance. Distantly, sewage came down one of the pipes and a fresh waft of stench moved through the tunnels. She forced herself not to make a face as it met her nose.

She was right, a reputation was part fact, part fiction, and Sylar had taken full advantage of the fiction aspect. This girl was either absurdly observant, or had better instincts than he did at reading a person. "People did create a monster, I'm the result. Even if I don't want to be one, I at least want to keep the image as one." An odd statement, Sylar wasn't really all that horrible, his seclusion and fear of attention had helped him keep his inner beast docile for three years, but to keep that part of himself locked away, he needed people to think he was exactly what he was repressing. "I need to be feared, or else I have to be the one afraid." A poetic statement coming from a highschool drop out who lived underground.

Evelyn didn't back down, which Sylar was growing to expect as time went on between them. His threats had failed, and the girl was most likely more intelligent than he was, at this rate she'd completely back him into a mental corner. However, she didn't know what his life was like, or how his past had been, so all her words meant little to him as they soaked in. "Sitting down here keeps me from being dead lady. You're normal, you don't have to be afraid of all the other normal people. I do, so I need the monster, and that's why you can't go around telling people it's just some kid with a tail." Sylar's history was complicated and filled with hardship, something he assumed she couldn't understand even if he'd told her. And her refusal to accept what he was kind of shook his own determination, and that was really bugging him.

They say a predator can smell fear, and somehow Sylar knew that she understood that he really could kill her if he wanted, that he was truly dangerous. However so long as she was talking to the human beneath the monster, she was keeping that danger at bay. Evelyn had surprised him a few times in short span since she stumbled onto his home, however her mention of his encounter with a lost child stopped Sylar completely for a moment. He knew that story would be in the news somewhere, but nobody ever seemed to remember it, or place him as the one who'd turned the girl in. "I...uh...Nobody ever brings that up." He said slowly. "I..I mean...she was just a kid, some scared little girl, what was I supposed to do?" She'd been matching him word for word so far, but for a brief moment now, she'd disarmed Sylar completely.

Evelyn watched him carefully, and beneath the hood, there was something lurking. A level of danger, suppressed, and also loneliness. This teen had locked himself away, becoming a monster, maintaining that image and letting people be afraid. But if the echoes were correct in any way, he was doing it to protect them from what he feared: himself. She could understand that. He was distancing himself to keep people safe. She had done something similar with her family, getting her own apartment and putting up with Jensen. Sure, she wasn't in a sewer, but the mindset was still there. Being a mutant was dangerous, and everyone had to deal with it differently. His way was just more extreme.

"You're still young. You'll learn and grow into your powers and you won't need to fear them. I've met lots of mutants, and I've heard the same story over and over again. I've even had to learn it myself. Your mutation is part of you. It's not something we can just toss away, it's something you have to learn to adapt to..." Slowly, she was admitting that she herself was a mutant. It seemed fair if she was going to give advice. Or whatever was happening.

"And I may not have to worry about other normal people, but that doesn't mean I don't have to worry. You know those riots you were talking about? Mutants attacked me because I looked human. Things work both ways. I may not have an outward mutation, but people still judge and people still try to hurt me." There was a small spark of irritation in her eyes at his statement, the accusation stinging a bit, but it vanished fairly quickly. Then he was stumbling over the story she had brought to light.

"She was just a kid, some scared little girl, what was I supposed to do?"

And there it was, the kid underneath the monster. He couldn't do anything to harm her, he couldn't be the monster he claimed to. He wanted that image to protect people, but he had to help. Because he had a softer side. "You did what you felt was right. You helped. And that's what makes you different." She didn't know what she hoped to achieve by saying what she did. Some sudden realization he was a good person? Him to come crawling out of the sewer and try to be normal? Or him to try to prove a point and attack her? It could all happen. There was still something volatile in his nature she had to look out for, but things had to be said, at least when you were Evelyn.