He must have really loved her, Jyn thought, though she knew better than to say so. It was the sort of thing that ought to have been self-explanatory, for one, and besides, she didn't know how raw a wound it might be. If he wanted to talk about her, she would always, always listen, but it didn't seem right to press. Maybe it was just that the thought of that sort of affection was hard to wrap her head around after a lifetime of people who were supposed to love her ultimately leaving her.

Even that might not have been entirely fair. She knew, rationally, that her parents had loved her — all three of them, Saw included. Whatever that love was, though, it had never amounted to more than leaving her behind, never been enough to keep her around. That was all the more reason not to say what she was thinking, not wanting to draw any inadvertent comparison between her being left behind and Cassian being separated from his sister, which she knew he wouldn't have chosen.

"She must have loved them," she said instead, which seemed safer. "It was like that for me, with the toys I had." Although, she supposed, that was different, too." They had, after all, been her only friends.