[His shoulder shake in a quiet, humorless laugh, and he finally lifts his head; his eyes are red-rimmed, though the tears haven't spilled over, yet. He lifts his hand to rub the heel of it over his eyes anyway.]

. . . If you come to mine, I can show you something. If you want. It's—it ain't—

[He takes a deep breath, hating himself for even having to say this.]

—I'd never . . . do anything. Got it? Even if you flipped out on me and ran and never talked to me again, that's nothin' like what happened back in Hope's Peak! I'm not a—

[Murderer.]

. . . I'm not.