[ Verso knows better than to be fooled by this temporary peace. He isn't about to believe in something so idealistic as a truce, but while here...perhaps they can find something in between.

Between the bars of their prison. ]

...I remember.

[ Which makes this that much more difficult. He could opt to keep what he knows hidden, but he'd rather not risk the man finding out some other way. Bitterly cruel of him not to allow Maelle the same grace, he knows, but this has always been about necessity. Maelle hearing all of his secrets here won't do anything to help her. But if Renoir hears what he's learned, if he can understand...then maybe he can help them escape.

If he can accept the fate that awaits him.

Better than existing here without his wife, right? ]

But somehow, we aren't remembering the whole story. There's more to it. Maelle— ...Maelle remembers more.

[ He stops, just within the forest's edge, for them to stand in the shadows that dance from the soft light cast by the nearby party. He isn't looking at Renoir, but off to the side with a furrowed brow. Is it shame? Grief? Resentment? Even he doesn't know. ]

We succeed. We free her from herself. [ Aline. ] She'll never paint again.