"You always have an excuse, Solas. Always some way to twist the truth until you're the victim. So nothing is ever truly your fault, not really." Rook shook her aching hand out, though the movement radiated disgust more than pain. She was a fool for expecting anything else. How could anyone be so overflowing with regret, yet refuse to shoulder a single ounce of blame? "Maybe, if I thought for a moment I could trust you not to rip the world apart, that's a conversation we could've had. I guess we'll never know, will we?"

Because there would never be trust. Couldn't be trust. Not when she couldn't even parse through her own memories of what was real and what wasn't, because of him, because of what he'd done to her very mind.