It's her shirt - one of her favorites, actually - that Joel's smearing with blood and Raleigh just sort of pinches the bridge of her nose between her fingers. She could call the cops - and tell them what? That three people who clearly knew her had broken into her apartment, cleaned it up, and then were messing with her stuff?

It didn't make sense anyway, so she sat there and watched them, until- until Coop set it on fire, the smoke miraculously not setting off the fire alarm. What got her out of her chair was him saying we might be royally fucked. She didn't think anything was wrong with her, but when she got close enough to see, it... made no sense.

"Why are there two lights?" The words are faint, but she's staring at the table with furrowed brows. "Why are you fucked?" She just doesn't get it, or why burning her shirt mattered.