It's not, but I'll make it okay, somehow.

[He doesn't know how, and maybe he can't. He feels helpless, just like he did on that day, seeing her suffering and not being able to do anything.]

We're here, and we're-- [He wants to say alive, but he doesn't. He doesn't know if she is alive.] --talking. [Though he's tensed and ready to run from her if he has to.] That's good, isn't it?

[At her question, he pictures again the tall figure in the long, dark coat.]

I was lucky. Someone saved me.