[She looks troubled, that much is clear. She looks like he's told her the world will end, and there's nothing she can do to change it. She looks like she can't bear to hear the words that he's speaking, like she wants to cover her ears and block him out. Some of his words sting. When he holds her face and tells her that she can't do this if he really matters to her, she looks gutted. She does care about him. He does matter. But...

Everything was so much easier before all of this, before everyone she cared about started challenging what she's known as truth her whole life.

It's never failed her before. It's never failed her.]

You're different from him. You're... practically different people. Whatever happened to him... Whatever broke him and made him think that he had to murder the people he cared about, that tragedy didn't have to happen to you. You're still good. You're safe. You're never going to be like him.