( it's tempting to brush off the statement. this laurel doesn't know kara well, that much is true, but there was another laurel who did, and in her memory, kara doesn't think it's quite fair to do that to her. it's not fair to anybody to pretend like she's fine when she's not.

the chair she'd been occupying before is reclaimed as kara sinks back into it, head leaning back against the wooden edge as she tries to figure out how to answer it. a good explanation doesn't come, so she settles on the truth, even if it is blunt. )

I died. ( well. the kind of truth. ) At least, I think I died. I was dying, anyway, and I guess... I guess I wished I wasn't, and I came back here.

And now that I'm back, I just. I don't know what to do.