[ It's not the man in either set of memories pulling her close, as she stands there, wide-eyed and still, quiet. ]

Th-that's— [ Not for her, because she hadn't proven herself yet, because she wasn't good enough yet. That's what she thought. Overtime, that warped, into everyone's holding me back, into they're pulling me down, into they have to pay. Why'd she cut and bleed people, cut and bleed herself...for them?

She takes a few quick, shallow breaths. Conflicting memories fight, of starting to cry and reach for her mother's arm only to be told off, and of Erin Soelberg embracing her, much like now, arms big enough to wrap her up completely. She doesn't know if she's allowed to cry, and it paralyzes her, trying to sort through it. One lifetime where she believed it made her unworthy or less, one lifetime where her family chased away any negative thought with hugs and kisses. ]

I'm sorry. [ She squeaks that out, trying to stop from trembling in his arms, and failing. ] I-I s-s- sorry I c-called you— I didn't- didn't- I didn't kn-know.

[ She shuts her eyes and the tears flow free again. She takes to murmuring, mumbling. ]

You're...a g-good...father...