Ha. Christ. Too much, really, but she didn't want to burden Lillian with it. She didn't want Lillian to know that Anna was... getting the worst kinds of memories. About killing and dying and failing to save anybody. Just like with Clover.

She tried to keep her face from showing anything, and... she felt like she was doing an okay job of it, but she wasn't robotic yet. Lillian would almost certainly be able to tell from the way her eyes were flitting downward, breaking contact, or how the breath in her lungs escaped from parted lips, pushed out by sinking shoulders.

"Not really. Just more shit about being a robot," she lied. "Hopefully yours wasn't designed to kill."