"Why." It's less a question than a statement of utter credulity, of what - and this cannot be stressed enough - the fuck.

She shakes her head, and eyes the door looming ahead, the one they've been heading towards.

"I have so many questions. Many for you. More for them."

And while there's a flutter of trepidation in her chest at the thought of heading through those doors, she wants to get a good look at his bosses. Wants to evaluate the people who would take someone who has been treated as a tool and keep on using them.

Besides, she doesn't think the faint echo of recognition from years gone by is enough for him to let her make a run for it - she's either going in unrestrained and under her own power, or she's going in by force. The former leaves more options.

"I'll find you later. To talk."

(ooc: we can probably wrap this one with her going in for orientation?)