Annie stayed quiet through all of that, listening and occasionally making a move like she wanted to get up and go over to Jessica -- and if had been anyone else, she would have. This was the kind of story that inspired comfort, but Annie knew Jessica well enough to know that any comfort she could offer would probably be more for Annie's own benefit than for hers.

But now everything made so much sense. Why Jessica was -- prickly. The drinking. The obvious self-loathing.

"Oh, Jessica," she finally breathed, softly. "Holy shit."

In a minute, Annie would internalize the pride at how Jessica was right, and she knew she had saved dozens more women from that asshole. She knew that.

But for right now, she was just going to concentrate on her friend. "You -- you thought he was dead?" She'd start there, because if this Kilgrave motherfucker was alive, she was going to take a little field trip and cut his fucking vocal chords.