Tom has shifted so that he is looking more out the window than he is her. There is a large crow that has decided to rest itself against the sill. And she knows that the other can not have good memories of the things. She has seen the memory of a boy no older than four kickings, screaming, and begging to be let out of a decaying church. She has seen the scar that he has with the thin lines and she can see the way that he makes a move to rub at it.