[Cami's lips part, a soft breath escaping her as Evelyn all but admits the ultimate truth. In her loneliness and despair she'd sought comfort in the arms of another, and that is something Cami can sympathize with. The difference between them is that Cami has no ring on her finger, no vows to uphold to another, and no disaster waiting just on the horizon now that the wrong person has shown up in Wonderland.

It's a sad thing, a hard one to face. She clutches her hands together in her lap, letting Evelyn seat herself before she offers up a response.]

I think it's clear that you love Rick. You wouldn't feel this tremendous pain if you didn't. [There is no question in Cami's mind that Evelyn feels deeply for the man, or that she would've never committed the act had she not been alone here for so long, coupled with the certainty that home no longer existed for her. Cami lowers her eyes for a moment, gathering her thoughts, trying to decide what Evelyn needs to hear first.]

One of the conversations I've had with a few of my patients involves the idea of what it means when a person leaves Wonderland. Even with the potential that they could come back, in many ways it's like a death. The people still here don't know when they'll see them again--and that's assuming they're from the same world, and both alive.

So I think that when a person goes, or when they aren't here, those of us that are have to grieve, and we have to go on. We're still alive here, and staying stagnant because of our location would be like--

[She hesitates, letting her eyes meet Evelyn's. Maybe her guilt would make the words hurt more, but Cami does believe they're true.]

Like a widow who refused to ever move on after she lost her husband. In a lot of ways, Evelyn, that's what you were.