Forty was a child. She was a rapist. I stopped her. I protected Forty because I had to. Because nobody else was. Better they thought it was him. Forty was blacked out, a victim. They'd cover it up, coddle him like always. I could stay close, protect him. But families don't heal from something like that. So I began to fantasize about a new one if we were lucky enough to have it. When James died, I wondered if the family I had was the one I deserved. And then I saw you. I knew right away in my gut, I recognized something in you. And hey, smart, sexy, funny, a little darkness that made him less storybook, more real. I started to fantasize again. When you pulled away, I told myself I can fix him. For a while, it was working. I showed you how to heal. Oh, you were stronger than I knew. I showed you what I wanted by showing you what I didn't want. When you stood by me, united, I knew together we could he better than the family I was born into. Maybe I got a little obsessed.
Love: Everything is going to be OK. Joe: What did you do? Love: Why are you looking at me like that? Joe: I am so sorry. Love: Why? She was crazy. She was going to hurt you and us. And I fixed it. We're going to be together now. Joe: I don't think we can. I think I broke you. Love: I'm fine. Joe: Listen to me. This is not your fault. This is not you. Everything I told you is true. Beck. Henderson. Delilah. I killed them. Their blood is on my hands. Love: Joe. You didn't kill Delilah. I did.