In the course of her questioning, Ellis has strayed further from her towards the covered garden beds. He'd barely noticed the movement. She is asking him for something he has never shared. Wysteria's face is flushed from cold or from anger and Ellis wants to go to her and take her hands and ask her to set all of this aside. But the distance put between them remains.

If he tells her the truth, will she ever look at him kindly again?

Or worse, if he is to unspool all that he has done in his life, all the mistakes, all the blood, all the death, and for her to take it in stride? It is not something to be excused. He cannot hear that from her.

"Because I'm not as good a person as you think I am," Ellis says, turning back to her. "And I am sorry, I—I'm sorry that I cannot give you a better answer."