[ It leaks like an ice cube melting, dripping down into his mind. He knows he was curious. He'd gotten so far into Hannibal's head that it was practically a natural action. And she- ]

She blamed me. And she was...right to do so. I forced her to choose, death or murder.

She didn't shoot him. She stabbed him.

[ He's breathing heavily now, too quickly. These memories- the feelings- are not foreign. But for this brief window of time, he's wishing they were. ]