[She says it again and only then does he remember that she already said that; something is wrong with your item, or wrong with me.

She is afraid, and he is angry, and he must remain calm. He must, and so he does, confirming every way he knows how that she is not harmed, that she is not dying.]

Your vitals are normal, Abigail. Elevated with fear response but otherwise normal. You are uninjured. [Clinical, definitive, fact: she's alright.

The notion is there in the back of his mind but he doesn't look at it, not yet. He glances at her door, leaves his hand on her wrist.]

Where is my item?