[ despite all of that, however, she did hear everything damon had to say. after she's composed herself, eliza pulls her shoulders back and puffs out her chest, still grasping her pitchfork in a hand. ]

It's not a trick! It's magic! [ her pitchfork whirls around, and she sets the end of the handle into the ground behind her so she has something to lean on. ] And people say a lot of things, but I guess it can't be helped. If the cat's out of the bag, there's no getting it back in without some hooked wire and a gutted mouse.

[ her tail flicks, this time in agitation. ]

I'm aware of the legacy my choices have left behind, nasty or not. But if you tell anyone else, you're talking about the past.