"Oh, my darling girl," Marcus says, getting up from his seat and coming to sit down beside Sabrina instead. He turns his chair toward her, facing her, and takes one of her trembling hands between his. He knows what she says she remembers and while Marcus doesn't at all doubt her recollection or the things she's seen, he's not quite so eager to lay all the blame at her feet. From the way she's described it, she had been manipulated over and over, trying so hard to do good and having it turned against her by people she trusted.

He doesn't know that he can change what she thinks of any of that, but there are stories he can tell her. Of evil.

"My parents, Sabrina, were as evil as two people could get. They beat me. Burned me with cigarettes. They hated each other and hated me for having been born. When I was seven, my father took up a hammer and he used it to beat my mother to death. Right in front of me. I knew I would be next, so I took his hunting rifle off the wall and I shot him. He died still trying to choke me to death. His hands 'round my neck. I saw it in his eyes, how angry he was, how much evil there was inside of him." He strokes the back of Sabrina's hand. "But I am not my father. I make my choices to be good as often as I can and so do you. Maybe he's your father and maybe he's evil, but evil isn't passed through blood. Evil is a choice."

He smiles a little, then reaches up to smooth back some of her hair. "I've seen the face of God, duck. I know goodness when I see it and there's so much good in you."