Her brother got her out, but couldn't replace the broken parts. The little girl bot tended to reach critical failure and overheat. Found the virus, purged the exploit, current path of self-repair.

There are still parts missing but the bot chugs along. I think I can I think I can I think I can.

[ She lifts her shoulders and drops them. Not quite a shrug, because she's none too detached from this conversation, despite the way she's using her own words to create a buffer. ]

At least you won't say, 'oh no, how could they' because you know. They could because they could.