The reaction to the kick was satisfying. The demon, and she was sure now that this was one of the demons that Marcelo had fought earlier, could not adequately pretend to be Sebastian Shaw, who might have been hurt by the heat of the pyroplasm, but would only have been empowered by the blow itself.

"Keep talking. You almost sound convincing." There was a chord being struck, somewhere deep inside, but she didn't let it get in the way of her actions, of her resolve to destroy this foul thing. She kicked it again, this time aiming for the knee, sure that if she could break bones, that she could completely ruin its knees.

She hadn't thrown away her moral compass- she'd simply neglected her husband. It was awful, but it wasn't the same. And she had missed him, she missed him desperately. But she had been tired too.