[ Booker died, alright. he died being the idiot that she had eventually grown attached to, killing out of either emotion or because he was once again given a motive to wipe away all of his debt. he died long before Elizabeth had, likely spending time wallowing in self-defeat over not getting back to her so that she could successfully escape Columbia. little did he know that, after all this time, she was trapped in a new cage altogether. imagine the frustration Booker would feel over once again being helpless in aiding her much-needed freedom.

it was eerily strange that none of that frustration is currently shown in his presentation, either in the steady drag of his words or his unyielding gaze. the only thing she gets is the weakest attempt of a half-smile at the mentioning of how much he has been missed. ]

Are you sure? Missing me... there's bound to be better ways to spend your time. [ a pause. he is patient with Elizabeth as she tries to fight her way through each syllable that spills from her lips. ] Missed you too. I know I have.

[ his wording is strange but he doesn't dwell on it long enough for her to consider what he could possibly mean. eyebrows lower as he seemingly studies her face, her sadness, her inner turmoil. she mentions that every day is bad and he can only nod. ]

At least you haven't been alone. You've had enough of that for one lifetime.