Pardon me. You're the one standing on the roof's edge, not I.

[It's a touch waspish, but Rosalind doesn't seem all that bothered. She takes a seat on the roof's edge, with all the careless grace of someone who knows that they can survive a fall like that.]

Why were you here, if not to kill yourself? Let's start there. It's likely this is a simulation, but let's act as if it isn't.