For a few moment, she appears to be at a loss. It's a lot to process, and she finds herself staring down into her glass as she considers how to proceed.

There are a lot of questions, actually. About him. About Sam. About the friends they've made, about how things have changed, about the life he's made for himself here. She wants to know more about Purgatory. More about Cas and the angels. About how Dean could possibly trust a demon after all that's happened in the past, and not just any demon -- but the one that loosed the hellhounds that lead to her death, all because she'd run back to save him. That was what stung the most.

It was like until she got here, he had forgotten about her. Whether or not it was true, that was how it felt. It cut deep. It was a betrayal, even though he was so many years ahead of her. If their positions had been reversed, she couldn't help thinking that she would never have forgiven Meg -- she couldn't have forgiven anyone who had hurt him, or Sam.

It was worse when she remembered what Meg told her when she first arrived.

Finally, she lets out a long, slow exhale of breath, and though there are a hundred and one different questions she could ask, the one that comes out might be the hardest of all.

"You don't really have room for me anymore, do you?" In his life, or otherwise. Not the way she wanted him to, anyway.