Oh, can it! You sure love babbling on and on about stuff that doesn't matter, huh?

Who gives it a shit what or who it came from? No matter what you gave to her, the minute you handed it over to her, it was hers. Every piece that makes up the person she is—she's the one who takes all that and puts it into motion. That's what living is.

You already left the story a long time ago.

[ and he lifts his gun and shoots Deny. ]