It's hard to distrust him, but that just makes her anxious. Her hand drops to curl on the desk, and with a sharp shake of her head, "And then I'll owe you. Because that's how it works if you want to survive. If you think you can be the exception, you'll only be destroyed."

There's more than bitterness in her voice. Dread creeps around the edges, because she'll be damned if she watches that happen again and because - "I'll never be beholden to anyone, ever again, no matter how sincere they think they are. Reality always comes calling."

There's more than one thing playing in her mind as she says all of this, clashing in a dissonant chorus. Her voice and the man who betrayed her; her voice and the man who created her to be betrayed.

"For better or worse, in sickness and in health, 'til death do us part."
"You used me!" "Child, that's why you were made."

Then, the most quiet and distant, her voice alone:
"Where does it say that you have to be a mutant to believe what the X-Men stand for, to fight by their side?"

She doesn't mean to share any of that, but the door she opened in the common room was never actually closed.