I have a father...but he left, and then he died.

[It's just the way that it is. Mary loves him, supposes she loves him, wants to love him. But can you love a man who you never really knew even if you know that he made you with love?]

And my sisters...but they're all...just like this.

[She nudges one of the burned masks with her foot.]

If I tell you something, will you promise to keep it a secret? Will you promise that you won't think of me any differently?