For a split second, Jerry wants nothing more than to tell her all of it — more about the shooting in Chinatown than just the fact that it was bad, how they'd already gotten to Keeler, what it was like to call in his body and hear that Jack was dead, knowing that she would have been, too. The moment passes quickly. He's told her the part that really matters, the thing that really left him reeling, and though the rest had just as much if not more to do with how fucking awful that night was, it isn't worth going into detail about now. Instead, he glances up at her, as if only just thinking of something. "You saved my life, you know," he says, one shoulder lifting like that isn't as big a deal as is actually the case, though he can't hide it as well as he'd like. "Probably none of us would've made it out if it weren't for you."