Not precisely something she could help, given the fragmented state of her own mind. Things not forgotten, no. She remembers too much.

But she hovers there, ample distance away from him now, those dark eyes pinned unflinchingly on him as he speaks. "It sounds wrong when I try to say it. They don't come in order sometimes, just what I hear."

Her brow knits together. "The pieces didn't go back together the right way. Not broken, but not right. And you didn't get all of yours. Not broken but something missing."

Maybe then he'd understand what she was trying to say.