[She stares right back at him, unashamed. That's a fair enough exchange, and yet she pauses, not entirely ready to share her end. But she wants to know, especially about this man, who sleeps on the floor and patrols around the town and acts unlike any man she's ever met before, good or bad, so--]

I was assassinated.

My employer decided I was a liability. He hired my rival to sabotage one of my machines, and make it look an accident. It worked.

[It's evenly said. Almost like an obituary, which is precisely what she's going for, toneless and without emotions. It certainly doesn't speak of the angry or anguish she'd felt, the rage, the horror, all her regrets, how badly she felt as though she'd failed Robert, his hand in hers--

But maybe he sees something in her gaze, or hears the brittle rigidity in her tone.]