[ As she listens to him—and she does. Attentively even. Her expression morphs steadily as she grows fed up with what she now understands to be the real Grant Ward. The rhetorical question prompts a roll of her eyes, and she's ready to dismiss him then, but she lets him keep going because who knows when in his soliloquy he might land on something actually useful.

He doesn't. But he does manage to steadily shift her expression to one of abject loathing and disgust. A beat of silence passes as she stares at him in the wake of his remarks, and she shakes her head. ]

Is that how you looked at it? [ Another beat. She can't help herself. ] We were just something in your way. Something for you to cut when it wasn't serving you anymore? God, I feel sick right now just looking at you. No wonder Coulson pawned you off to your brother: it must have been a relief for you to be someone else's problem.