[Lorna doesn't understand. Anna - she must have misunderstood, she must have heard her wrong, or maybe the weight of her words simply haven't sunken in yet - whatever it is, Lorna doesn't hold hope that it will last very long. Any moment now it will all hit her in a rush, and she'll take back her kind, forgiving words and finally see Lorna for what she truly is, for what she's been all this time.]

[Lorna holds her breath, waiting for Anna to come to her senses. She leaves her question unanswered for a moment, then another, afraid to break the silence.]

[Then, when she can bear the silence - and those too-kind eyes - no longer, Lorna finally lowers her gaze and gives a small, sad nod in confirmation.]

...What matter does it make? I might as well have done the killing myself, for what little I could do to stop it.

[She tries, weakly, to pull her hands free from Anna's gentle grip, but her heart isn't in it. It hurts to accept her affection, knowing how terribly misplaced it is, and it hurts just as much to think that this might be the last of it she'll ever see.]

[Even then, she supposes she should take comfort in knowing it's still more than she ever deserved.