It's good that Stephen pre-empts her; her kneejerk I'm fine gets swallowed by his pressing, and it gives her time to acknowledge: fine people probably don't tear and pick at their skin until it bleeds. Fine people probably don't cut their arms open and then immediately try to do it again, only deeper this time, so they can examine their own bones. That's not the behavior of someone who is, by any stretch of the imagination, well.

Knowing that doesn't make it any easier to know what to say though, and she flounders, unsure.

"I'm... completing all my work?" is her first offering, but before she even looks at his face she knows Stephen's going to be making that exasperated expression he gets when someone is wasting his time. He asked a sincere question, and he expects a sincere answer. She has to do better.

"I thought I was alright," that's a start, and it's true, "but I... I'm increasingly preoccupied with making sure I haven't begun mutating again, or... feeling like I never stopped? My eyes, my, my hands—"

She digs a knuckle into her eye, distracted by an itch there. Replays what she said as her hand falls back to the table.

"I'm completing all my work," she repeats, this time with a distinct note of pleading as she sits back down across from him.