"Well, nobody wants to fight for their lives," she replied, still looking to the window, although her smile faded. "I mean, who doesn't want it easy? It's just a question of if they rise to the occasion when they're forced to. Or if they fucking give up."

Or if they made stupid-ass decisions, like she had, when the moment was upon them.

She could have died. She could have given in.

But she was fucking seventeen years old.