Fabrice can see it in her face and he winces, the guilt of being the one to tell her building upon the fear and hurt he already finds himself burdened with. He hates that he's told her such a thing about her own mother; he wouldn't admit to it if it weren't true, but that still doesn't lessen how awful he feels for accusing Amelie's mother of murder and violence to her face.

Her voice cracks and something breaks inside of him. He shuts his eyes as if that might shut out the world and the horrible realization he has just come to in regards to his part of it.

"I can see her face, clear as day," he says, his voice hushed. "I can still feel her hands holding me down and...clawing at me." He keeps his eyes closed, unable to look at Amelie. "I remember realizing she killed my dad and yours, the day before mother and I came over for dinner that night she...attacked me."

"I don't know," his own voice cracks, and he opens his eyes to pull Amelie closer to him. "I don't know."