"Sorry," he mumbled his reply around the mouthful of bread, quickly setting it down again, swallowing, and repeating, "Sorry." Thomas felt rather like a boy caught stealing sweets from the kitchen, but there was no help for that. "Thank you for staying, Rena. I- I know I should have gotten word to you, or- something- I just- I went to the Forrester's--"
He took a deep breath, looking up at Rena with an almost childlike gleeful smile. "Rena, it was her! The- the woman you met. It was Abby- my Abby. She- we talked for hours- it- it's all a mess and we were both lied to and oh I'll see Madame Besoir hanged if it's the last thing I do-" Thomas cut himself off, realizing he was clenching his fists- he was not a violent person by any means, and speaking quite so bluntly about wishing ill on someone was certainly out of character for him. He took another deep breath. "Rena, sit- please? I- I need to talk to someone about all of this- to- to make sure I'm not losing my mind."