I don't want your sob story. [she says it with anger, with teeth, but there's... but she can't get all the way there. because it feels like she believes this person, or it feels like this person is at least telling her version of the truth. emerald sighs and presses her palms flat against her legs, and though she's scared, she can feel the pain starting to get easier to bear.]

They're your eyes that I'm seeing. So you're the one telling me that I got someone killed. And if I did? If I actually did? I'm sorry—I'm actually so sorry for that. Because I'm not a killer and I don't want to be one. [she breathes.] So if this is real, then I just want to make it better for you.

[and then, a realization. she looks over at this other woman.] Do you... know me?