Though it isn't something she could easily admit to, even to Russell, whom she's sure she trusts more than anyone else here, Molly can't help being relieved at that. It isn't even just that Patrick is already dead, though that plays a huge part. His face isn't one she wants to see again fucking ever. It's that she knows she isn't someone who would look good if this were an ongoing thing. Maybe the same isn't true of the other woman and maybe that would have wound up being her saving grace, but as it is, she knows too well the sorts of things some people say in situations like these. It's not a far cry from what she took some pretty desperate measures to avoid being faced with back home, though at least almost getting killed is a far cry from the situation she'd been in then (it's a lot fucking worse).

"Good," she says, voice a low, rough exhale. She doesn't bother trying to sound like she means it any less fervently than is really the case. It's funny in the sense that it's fucking awful, how much something like this can change a person's perspective, but she wouldn't have wanted any less for him than what he got from Lisbeth. "Fuck. I don't think I could've handled some drawn out thing."