It couldn't be more obvious to Devin that there is no way in nine hells that Aly will forget this, but telling her so isn't going to sink in right now. He knows the look of a turning point in someone's life. Those moments remain keen at the edges with whatever emotions carved them, remain crystalline in the memory longer than anything else.

Gently, slowly, Devin takes Aly by the shoulders and tries to coax her back, away from the sink and onto the edge of the tub. Kneeling in front of her, Devin holds her hands firmly in his for a moment. "Your hands are not so dirty as to be full of ruin."

If he lets her, he'll grab a washcloth and soak it, and begin cleaning what remains of the blood on her fingers. As he does so, he murmurs softly and steadily from Eliot's poems: "Time present and time past, are both perhaps present in time future, and time future contained in time past. If all time is eternally present, all time is unredeemable…" And he'll keep going while he works, the words for Aly as much as himself this time.