[Wouldn't she? Wouldn't she be so happy? If it were Herta, they would basically be the only two people in the world. Only two of them would ever know what it was like. But Herta's such a soft and gentle person. She'd lose her family. She'd lose her friends. Those things that make her so beautiful and human in ways that Andrew has never been. Yes, yes, she wants to be the only one who brings certain expressions to her face, but life is so much more complex than that.

So, yes, she thinks, but the price -]

How could I!? How could I...? It felt like I was being hit myself every time she was beaten! When I couldn't stop it from happening!

How could I trade any amount of happiness for even an ounce of pain if I might have been able to stop it? [No, instead she would have done anything to stop it...] Especially something like that?!

[Have they looked at him? Have they looked closely and imagine what it felt like? Can they feel the stinging heat of those injuries on their own body? Because that was her as recently as the week before, falling to her knees in front of all those pictures in the photography studio, every possibility an open bleeding reminder that she could not stop it.]