You don't— it's not just— I don't have to explain myself to you. I don't have to explain how this is different than anything at home that I can handle that you can handle.

[ it's said with enough annoyance and anger that lydia wonders where that's been for months because this isn't just being annoyed this is lydia lashing out because she can and because it's something that feels good and right and normal and like she's supposed to be.

but then she pauses, and her own voice stays the same though takes on a bit of a flat quality. ]

Why, because you care about what happens to me?