"No." Poe doesn't say things like that. Poe doesn't say things like that. He fights until there are no options left, he tries until every possibility has been exhausted, he--

She can't look at him. It's hard to breathe, suddenly, even though they're out of the crowd, even though there's an open rooftop and plenty of space. "Poe, come on."

Jess had no idea how much she counted on their arguments. How much she needs to be told that her worst instincts are wrong. She's supposed to be the fatalist here. He's the one who holds on, no matter what.

"There's got to be a way. One they haven't found."