Worrying about me isn't going to change anything, silly! What's done is done. It was a long time ago.

[ She can still smell the blood in the air, see pooling onthe carpet behind her eyelids when she blinks. Stop. ]

I'd feel bad if you got gray hairs over me, y'know? You don't want me walking around with that on my conscience, do you? So let it rest! Or... do you want me to get gray hairs, too?