Work Text:
She puts one foot in front of the other, trying to keep a steady pace. What has she done! Condemned an almost innocent man to certain death!
She really, really, really, wants to go back and secure that key before it goes right down the drain and leaves him there forever. But even then, it might be too late. And she can't disturb the game, so instead she continues pacing like a caged animal.
That person Amanda left in there. Adam. She never wants to have to face him again. He's at least a half decent guy, he complimented her hair, he took her photo. What has he really done to deserve this? Sure, he might have spied on a person or two, but he was just doing what he had to do.
She leans against a wall to gasp and catch her breath. Hot tears well up in her eyes again and spill down her cheeks. They make her mascara run even more.
Amanda knows the traps John sets up, and she almost never feels sympathy for the people in them. They're the ones getting a new lease on life, if they live. She remembers her own trial, her chance.
But right now it's all too much. She'd never, ever, doubt her mentor's ways. But this isn't John's way. He didn't do this, this choice was all hers. She grits her teeth and doesn't make a sound.
...
Days later, Amanda opens that all-too familiar door. She hopes it'll be the last time. She's going to make things right. The plastic bag crinkles in her clenched hand.