The Heartwood invasion of the bodysnatchers

I'm sorry, Leta, he says. 

The lack of clarification was, to her, all the clarifying she needed to justify the self-deprecating thoughts. Y-you think... we're... I'm... She couldn't get it out! Leta's eyes turned to him, look at the way he is sitting there. Tense, to himself, withdrawn now. You did that, she realized, stricken by it. 

That did it. A sob she tried to swallow came, and she shook her head. Why was he sorry? He shouldn't be sorry. He was just being honest. N-no, don't be, it's, she hiccuped. I get it, she wanted to say, even though she didn't. What was so wrong with the way they were? There had to be something, that he wanted to keep away from it now. To not be that way. She would not have him feel bad or guilty just because he didn't look at things the same way she did, or because he thought she wasn't cool, or whatever. He was her brother. 

Stop crying! Her tongue was heavy and she didn't know what to say. 'smyfault, she slurred sadly, tongue dragging over the words as she rushed to get them out. It's o-okay, she forgave readily, immediately. I musta missed more t-than... than she meant to. Than she had thought. Her own fault, she berated, unable to blame Newt in this. She drew her foreleg to her face to rub at her eyes, her nose, not wanting him to feel badly.