No apology necessary. We're all entitled to our past, ta our privacy. [Simple, quiet, with all her conviction. Strange, perhaps, from someone whose very skin leeched that away from anyone she touched. Or perhaps not so strange, considering how much she revealed about the past of those she absorbed... which was nothing at all.

...though there was something strange about what he was saying -- almost as if he cared what she'd think. And she did care, she found, staring at him imprisoned with that mockery of a mask. She didn't want that for him. She knew that Remy LeBeau was more than this.

So she took a step forward toward him, just one, in a bid for his attention.] Although I will say... when ya got somethin' there that's this big, somethin' that's ridin' you... seems ta me that it ain't just in your past.