-- Some time ago, the last time in Liberty.
-- Just before leaving to Bretonia to find Chamberlain.

Sitting on a chair a pen in my right hand, it was already getting evening.
Not knowing what to write to Mason, how was I going to put this to words.

Fidgeting with a pen in her hand watching at a empty piece of paper.
'Should I really go to Bretonia?'
Carrie shook her head writing some of lines down.
'Felicia said enough already, I'm not going through this again'
'I'm going to this Chamberlain, he sounded like he could be trusted.'
'Not all the gun waving and all the stupid 'I want to help you'.
'Felicia was right, she was the perfect example of 'I want to help you'...'
'... and then totally ruining me saying they don't care that they just wanted some information.'
'no, no I'm out of here.'
'there we go'
Lays down her pan next to the piece of paper
Shoving the piece of paper clearly visible to the middle of the table.

Picks up her bag with all her own personals.
Walking towards the door, opening it. Shortly looking back in the house leaving a quiet sigh escape her.
Closing the door, locking it behind her.

Once at the landing pad she takes the Guardian.
'Goodbye Denver, I'll miss you'