[ Her gaze follows the other's to the mannequin. Vanessa has yet to see them act up twice in a row, but one can’t call oneself an expert in so short a time. It would be terrible to experience such a thing again, but she would be reluctant to allow Constantine to go through it alone.

Then, her gaze travels back, and though there’s something soft in her rasp of a voice, there’s nothing gentle in her words. ]

Are you a murderess?

[ Despite its framing, she doesn’t want or need a response. It’s a question and answer for the other woman alone. ]

Have you been able to carry on as nothing but yourself, to persist without the sanctity of a soul? Would you be able to? If you know the answer, then no matter which truth you live, you have nothing to fear from the judgment of others.